Love is Blind
by Des Iries
Summary: When a smart mouth blind girl goes back in time, and mets Erik, will she show him that sometimes love is blind and that the blind can see better then those who do? EOW may be rated M latter. baised on the movie Gerik!
1. Chapter 1

Love is blind

**Ok. This story had been taken down because the summery was not G-rated. I give my apologies to who ever couldn't stand it. My mouth gets the best of me at times. See Poppy. And to all you old readers and reviewers, I thank for all the reviews. I have the all printed out and by my heart (or more like on file) so thank you for all the lovely reviews. All past chapters have been edited as well…and so….on with the story again. Disclaimer: I don't own the Phantom of the Opera.**

Chapter 1

CRACK!

"Ow! Watch that thing!"

"Sorry. Didn't see you."

The man walked away grumbling.

Poppy smiled to herself. It was wrong, she knew, to take her anger out on someone else. But right now she was angry and didn't care. From the people she auditioned for, to the world. Poppies straighten her dark glasses and shifted her backpack. No use blaming anyone on her blindness. Turning the corner to the subway, she was resigned to go home and face the music of "I told you so's," and " They will never hire a blind girl."

She sighed. She'll show them. Even if it killed her. She'll become the best. Poppy finally arrived at the subway. After the ticket master checked her pass, she found out she had an hour wait. Well, at least I don't have to listen to their mouths just yet. She thought. In the waiting area there was no one there. Lucky her. Poppy pulled out her CD player and turned it on, losing her self in the sultry, voice of Gerald Butler. She closed her eyes in ecstasy. Even if she could not see it helped her focus, and focus she did. As the last thundering notes died, she heard the train pull away.

"Shit! Wait!" Poppy shoved the player in the pack and ran after the train, but it went on by, leaving Poppy standing alone on the platform.

"I can almost blame you Gerry, but it is as much my fault as it is yours," She sighed," Well time to take the long way." With that she flipped the long gone train off, turned and ran into a plier. She stumbled back, holding her head and fell off the platform and on to the tracks.

**Lucky me. I had the past chapters on floppy.**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2** Disclaimer: I don't own the Phantom of the Opera.**

When Poppy woke up she was mad as hell. "Breath in. Breath out." She kept telling herself. No use losing her temper now. And...and where the hell was she? She was sitting on stone. Cold wet stone at that. She was sure that she had fell off the platform and on to the tracks. But she was not on the tracks. Poppy felt around for her cane, hoping it was not broken. Thank the lord that it was not far and not broken. Groaning, she stood. If she was not on the tracks, where was she? Shrugging her shoulders she picked up her backpack and began walking...hell. Which way? Well, she figured, I am right handed so I will go...left. So turning left she tapped her way down the tunnel.

After 10 minutes she got tired of the silence and the sound of dipping water. So she started humming the first song that came to mind. Then really getting in to the annoying song, she broke out in to voice and she really belted it out,

_So where were the spiders while the fly tried to break our balls  
Just the beer light to guide us,  
So we bitched about his fans and should we crush his sweet hands? _

_Ziggy played for time, jiving us that we were voodoo  
The kids were just crass, he was the nazz  
With God given ass  
He took it all too far but boy could he play guitar _

_Making love with his ego Ziggy sucked up into his mind  
Like a leper messiah  
When the kids had killed the man I had to break up the band. _

_Oh yeah   
Ooooooo  
Ziggy played guitaarrrrrr_

She let out a guttural growl letting the note go sour. She stopped and blinked as the last notes of the horrible song died, then doubled over laughing so hard tears came to her eyes. Suddenly she heard very faint footsteps. Poppy straighten up. "Hello? Anyone there? I fell off the platform, and got turned around. Do you think you can direct me back in the right direction?"

The footsteps stopped and Poppy had a vague sense that someone was staring at her.

**XxX**

Erik was on his way to give Christine her singing lessons, when he heard someone singing horribly. And the song it's self...he had shuddered. Normally he would have been furious that someone would be in his realm, but his curiously won out and he had to see who would sing such a song. Making no noise he followed the sound. He came upon a strange sight, just as the last notes died.

"_Ziggy played guitaarrrrrr_."

There standing by the stonewall was a strange dressed girl. She bent over, laughing. His eyebrow rose. How she could laugh, he had no idea. He shifted. She straightened up. How did she hear him?

"Hello? Anyone there? I feel off the platform, and got turned around. Do you think you can direct me back in the right direction?"

All he could do was stare at her. All she had to do was turn around and she'll see him. They were in one of the few-lighted tunnels. Throwing his voice so that it came from in front of her, but around the corner. "Qu'est-ce que tu fais?" He asked.

She gasped. "What?"

English. She spoke English. "I said, what are you doing down here?" He snarled.

"Got lost. I fell off of the platform back there. Are you one of the foremen?"

"Non. And there is no 'platform' here. Now got out of the cellars."

"Cellars? No. I was on the subway platform, and fell off."

This girl was crazy! "I don't care. Just go." He turned and began to walk away, when she spun and pointed at him.

"You moved! You were behind me the whole time! How cruel! I now have you pinpointed. Just because I'm blind, it doesn't mean I can't hear." She moved towards him, "Now can you help me?"

Now that she was closer, he could see her wearing smoked glasses, and caring a white cane. She had red hair that came to her waist. And tall too. Only a few inches shorter then him.

"No. Just go the way you came and you will come to a door. Go out it and never let me catch you down here."

She grinned up at him. "Now, did you know that you had just helped me, and yet you said you would not."

Erik opened his mouth, but found no reply to come forth. He glared down at her, and huffed, spun and stalked away.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3** Disclaimer: I don't own the Phantom of the Opera.**

Poppy grinned and followed him. She could follow as long as he made some noise. She walked behind him for a while, until he stopped and she ran right into him.

"Go away. You are annoying me."

Poppy shook her head. "Can't. I'll get lost. And if I get lost I could died down here, and there're be a nice rotting corpse down here."

"There're will be a corpse right here if you do not go." He snapped at her.

"Ohh! Big talk. You would not harm little ol' me!" she grinned up at him.

She called his bluff. She was right. He will never harm a woman or child. And she seemed to be both. And blind. He could not get over that. He had never been in the presence of a blind one before. Even so, every one in the Opera House knew of the Opera Ghost. Is she so ignorant that she knows not who he is? Erik sighed. " Alright. Come. Follow me, but be quiet."

She smiled up at him, "Yes Sir," she saluted him.

He rolled his eyes, and walked onward again. As she followed him she hummed cheerfully." Stop that infertile racket!" He snarled back over his shoulder.

"Critic."

Erik opened his mouth to say ether she be quiet and shut up or he'll leave her, when they came to Christine's mirror. He turned to her and pushed her against the wall." Now, stay here and be quiet." He turned back to the mirror.

Poppy leaned against the wall wondering what the hell the man was doing, when she heard singing.

_"Sing once again with me our strange duet...  
my power over you grows stronger yet..."_

His voice hit her like a ton of bricks. The familiarity of the voice sent shivers up her spine. A voice she listened to every day.

Gerard Butler!

**Gasp! I spelled his name right this time! Woot! Woot! Go me! **


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Phantom of the Opera.**

Chapter 4

As he sang to Christine, Poppy stood there in a state of shock. How is this possible? She thought. This sort of thing as this does not happen. At lest in the real world. But how can he be real? She slid down the sharp jagged wall, barely feeling the rocks cut into her back. She ended up on the cold floor. Time passed without her knowing about it. Suddenly Poppy felt cold hands shake her. Without thinking, she grabbed her cane from were she had laid it. She then swung it and heard a sickly thud as the white bamboo hit flesh.

"Damn it girl! Watch were you swing that thing!" an annoyed and pained voice sounded above her. Opps.

Poppy tried to surpass the smile that threatened to cross her face. To hide it she dipped her head. "Sorry. You scared me."

Erik humped and rubbed his side. The girl had aim. He'll give her that. And strength as he stood and winched as pain shot though his side. Another bruise to add to the many bruises and scars. " Come now. I'll take you back to where you belong. And if you breathe one word of this, I'll know. If you do, I will make sure the rest of your life will be misery." As he was telling her this he had been pulling her along the tunnels.

Poppy allowed him to pull her along until she got bored of it. When they stopped for some reason, she pulled her arm away. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, I _know_. And if I come back down here you'll...what is the word? Punjab me? I know all this. You not have to tell me, unless you like hearing yourself repeat it. You probably do. No one but Miss Perfect back there to talk to. And if you'll like to know she's not that perfect. If you tell me, I think she's..."

Erik glared at her even if she could not see him to do so," What the hell are you blabbering about, Girl? And I thought you did not know who I was."

Poppy huffed," Well, you thought wrong. I did not know who you were at first. I know all about you, _Erik_."

Erik let out a sharp breath of air, and grabbed her by the shoulders," How? How, do you know that, _Girl_?" He hissed.

Poppy winched at the pain, but hissed right back," My name is not Girl. It's Poppy O'Cullen, _Boy_."

His eyes went wide. She dared to talk to him this way? He continued to grip her shoulders tightly. "Mon Dieu! You have no manners! And you have not answered my question. How do you know?"

"Can you read?"

Erik nodded, then remembering she was blind, replied snippily" Yes. Of course. What does this have to do with anything?"

"This." With that she wrenched her shoulders free and swung her backpack off her back and in to his stomach. He caught it, and she backed up a bit, mad. "Go on, open it."

Erik looked over at her, then down at the strange pack. It was red with black cloth like straps. On the flap was some letters: P.C.OC. Flipping the flap back, he reached inside. Inside he found a hard round object, some books, and other strange items. He pulled out the books. The first two was covered in raised bumps; the other was a book that made his blood run cold. It was entitled, "_The Phantom of the Opera. By Gaston Leroux_" It had a picture of a mask and rose on the front. "What is the meaning of this?"

Poppy rolled her eyes behind the glasses," It means it is about you. It means I know about you. It was written in 1911." She waited until that had sunken in.

It didn't take long.

"1911! It is only 1869. How can it be so?" His voice had risen.

"Well...wait. You said it's 1869?" Poppy inquired.

He looked up at her. She was looking worried. "Yes. It is. You don't know the date?"

"I_ know _the date. It is December the 5th."

Erik nodded," Yes, it is-"

"2005. At least it was."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

"2005? Are you crazy?"

"Well, that's funny coming from you, isn't it?" She fired right back.

Erik shook his head," At least I know what year it is."

"I said was. When I fell off the platform, I must have slipped though a dimension or something--I know you're staring at me like I'm crazy, I'm not. So stop it."

Erik flushed and looked down at the book. He began flipping though it. He came to the question that a lot of people have asked themselves,

_"You are frightened...but do you love me? If Erik were good-looking, would you love me?"_

Erik looked up at her. She was standing a few feet in front of him, with her arms crossed, looking angry. The cane was gone, but he did not worry about it. "You read this book?"

"Not that book. The ones with the raised bumps. The Braille ones. That one belongs to a friend. So don't get all pissy and tear it."

The language the girl uses! Erik took her by the arm, and began pulling her along.

"Hey, were are you pulling me to now?"

"If we continue to stand here and argue-talk," he corrected himself," someone will find us. I can't let that happen, so we are going somewhere we can finish this conversation."

"Oh. Ok," with that she pulled her arm free. " But I'll like to get there in one piece. So give me my arm back." She reached in a pocket and pulled out her cane. Unfolding it, she placed the metal tip in his hand. "Ok. Now let's go."

Erik took a hold of her cane and guided her along. When they came to the lake, as he got in the boat, and turned to her, he saw her sniffing the air.

" Let me guess. Where're near or by the lake under the Opera House, aren't we?"

"Yes. How did you know?"

"You never been around blind people before have you?" she asked as he helped her in the boat.

"I have not been around many people. Even fewer blind ones."

"Well, when one loses a sense, the others become stronger. Like smell, touch, and hearing. And you gain a kind off a sixth sense."

Erik cocked his head as he pooled them along," I have all of mine and I have 'senses' that normal men don't have. Explain that."

Poppy though for a minuet," Hmm. Well, you're an exception."

"A monster."

She shook her head, "No. You're not a monster. You're...special." With that she fell silent for the first time.

Special? He was not special. He was a monster. The Opera Ghost. The Phantom. The Devil's Child. At that thought he grinded his teeth.

"Erik?"

"What?" he knew the silence would not last.

"Stop grinding your teeth. It's annoying."

Erik eyes widen. "Annoying? Annoying? I'll tell you what's annoying, You. You are. Girl-"

"Poppy."

"What?"

"Poppy. My name is Poppy. Not Girl. Poppy. Say it with me- Popp-e."

"Well, Poppy, you-" He was interrupted when the boat crashed into the bank. Poppy was sitting, so she was only tossed on to her stomach. Erik, well. He was had been standing, so he was tossed out of the boat. Poppy heard a splash, then someone cussing in French. She pulled herself along the bottom of the boat, until she reached the side. She placed her arms along the side and rested her head on them. Poppy cocked her head.

Erik looked up at her. She had a smile on her face. She was also chocking back laughs. He started to get angry until she stood and held out a hand. He looked at it, and then took it. She heaved him up. "Next time I drive.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"Wait here."

Erik pushed her down on a couch. "Don't move. When I come back we will talk." With that he turned and whet to his room to change in dry clothes. For some reason he was not mad at her for distracting him. He shook his head. He'll find out what she knows. And if she knows too much...here he paused. What would he do with her? He can't kill her. He never harmed a woman. He had wanted to. Erik shook his head, trying to get rid of the thoughts of the murderous khanum. But, what can he do? She can promise never to tell, but if she had a book about him, she's sure to have other things to prove that he is real. He decided to deal with that path when it comes. He composed himself and went back out to the front room. He heard laughter and giggles. What he saw made his eyebrow go up. The girl-Poppy-was still sitting on the couch. But his cat, Ayesha, was stretched out across Poppy's shoulders like a fur wrap. The cat looked up at him though half-lidded eyes, and worked her claws harder into Poppy's flesh. Poppy winced but laughed. "Hey there, I would like some skin left."

Erik watch for a few minutes more. The sight brought unfamiliar feelings.

Poppy had taken her glasses off, but kept her eyelids down. She had been sitting there waiting for Erik to return when a cat jumped up on her lap with a, "reow." Poppy held her hand out and the animal bumped it with her head, purring loudly, causing her to laugh. "So what's your name? I didn't know Erik had a cat. It was not mentioned in the book. But, then again there are so many different books out there that I can't read that probably mentioned you." The cat crawled up on her shoulders and stretched out. " You are so sweet. You remind me of my own." Poppy began scratching her under her chin, causing the cat to purr even louder.

"Amen."

Poppy gasped, turned her face away and scrambled to find her glasses. Finding them she placed them on. Turning back to Erik, she grinned up at him. "So, still looking like the drowned rat, I'm sure you looked like."

"No. And for now I'll ignore that remark."

"Grump. What's your cat's name?"

Erik sat down in the chair opposite from her. It was a bit unnerving for her to stare start at him and yet not see him. Unless...she's lying about being blind. "Ayesha," he leaned forward. "Are you really blind?"

Behind her glasses, Poppy's eyes widened, and then narrowed. She stood, " What kind of a question is that? "Are you really blind?" her voice began to rise, " Well, I'll ask you this: Are you really deformed? Do you really look like a corpse? Are you Really the Phantom. Or a wantta be? Are you really a genius? I'm starting to wonder. Asking such questions" She sneered at him, "Really, a grown man touchy about his looks. That is sad. Only Fops are that way." Turning, Poppy snarled at him," Are you really sure you're not a fop?"

She didn't get to berate him further. Erik had stood and was stalking towards her. Her, busy reprimanding him and not being able to see, did not hear him. He reached out his hands for her neck.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Suddenly Ayesha darted under Erik's feet, causing him to trip and fall into Poppy. She let out a 'yip,' as he crashed into her. They fell to the floor, Erik on top.

Poppy laid there, shocked. Any other phan girl would faint from joy, but Poppy was ready to faint from his weight. She recovered from her shock, pushed up and began struggling. "Get your fat ass up off me! I can't breathe!"

Erik scrambled up, blushing. Poppy sat up. "God. Are you always this clumsy?"

"No. I-I tripped. I am so sorry." He held out a hand to help her up, all the anger and fight gone in him.

Poppy didn't see the hand, so she felt strong hands pick her up. "Tripped? More like fall over your own feet." She tilted her head," So why was you so close to me? I remember you were sitting in front of me. If you was sitting, how did you trip?"

Erik didn't need her to panic, by telling her that he had been ready to strangle her, changing the subject, he asked," Now tell me about this book, and how much you know about me."

Poppy fumbled her way back to the couch," You are changing the subject. How did you trip?"

Erik shook his head," No, I am not. Did you know this author?"

Poppy crossed her arms," Yes you are. No. Why was you so close to me?"

"I'm not. You said you was from the future?"

"Yes. What made you stumbled?"

"Is the future different from now?" Erik's voice started to sound annoyed.

"Very much so. Why-"

"I became angry!" Erik finally shouted," I was ready to-"

"Kill me? Or more or less strangle me?" Poppy asked

Erik just stared at her.

Poppy waved her hand, "Don't worry about it. Someone is always ready to strangle me. Every day. Must be my charming little self. Your try was not much different."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter **8**

Poppy sighed. They had been staring at each other for a long while now, or at least Erik has. She could feel the way he stared. It was like getting you soul examined. Very uncomfortable. Erik's cat had decided that her lap was the perfect pillow, so she was curled up, sleeping away. Finally Poppy could stand it no more. "So...how much do you want to know?"

Erik jumped. He had been deep in thought with what to do with her. "I don't think I want to know now. Right now I need to figure out what to do with you. If what you say is true, that you are from the future...I believe there may be no way to get you back. Am I correct?"

Poppy nodded, "Yup. I have no idea how to get back. And I don't want to try hitting head again. It's still sore." She said this as she rubbed her head.

"Thought so. And I know that you have no idea to survive in this times."

Poppy let out a disgusted sigh, "Well, no shit Sherlock!"

Erik stood and walked over to her. He looked down at her and said in a voice that held warning, "What did you say?"

Poppy squared her shoulders," Well since you are hard of hearing I will tell you again. I said...could I stay with you?"

Erik staggered a few steps back. "What!"

Poppy smirked and gently laid the cat else were and stood. "You heard me. As you pointed out the obvious, I have no why to get back to my time, and have no idea how to survive here. I have three strikes against me. One. I am a girl. Two. I am blind and don't know my way around, as much as I hate to mention it. Three. I don't speck French. That's three. And were I come from, three strikes are bad. Three and I'm out!"

Erik stared at her in shock, "You want to stay here? With me?"

Dipping her head, Poppy nodded, "Yes. Maybe we can help each other."

Erik looked back at her," How?"

Poppy sighed," Well, for one I can give you people lessons."

When Erik didn't answer, she figured that he didn't get it. So she explained it to him." Well, I can help you strike conversations, like...hmmm, oh the classic, How are you? Lovely weather we're having. And would you like to go for coffee? Opps, that's from my time, but you get the idea. Anyway if you ever plan on meeting Christine face to face or in your case mask to face, you need some tips on conversation starters. And I am the perfect person to help you do that!"

Erik thought for a minute. She was right he hated to admit it, but she was right. She was clearly not afraid of him, being blind helped her. She could not see his hideous face. All she knew was that he wore a mask. So, yes, she could help him. And in return he'll allow her to stay here until she learned his language and the ways of the time she now found her self in.

"I have a proposition for you. You can stay until you ether find a way back to your time or learn the ways and language. In return you will help me "strike conversations" and give me as you said it, "people lessons". Deal?"

Poppy grinned and stuck out her hand, "Deal."

Erik looked at it warily, but complied and shook hers.

"Oh, my! Your hand is cold!"

"A trait I seem to have."

"Hmm." Poppy spun around, clapping her hands in joy. A chance to make everything "right." She always enjoyed screwing up plots. If Christine was worthy of him, she'll do everything in her power to help Erik get her. But if not, well the little soprano had better watch out.

**XxX**


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter **9**

Erik was frazzled. He had no idea were to put her. Poppy sat back listening to him grumble to his self. Finally she just told him that ether he stop fretting and decide where to put her, or she'll take his room and _He_ can have the couch. Five minutes latter he pulled her into a room and told her that it was hers.

There was a bed, Poppy found out after she fell all over it. She ended up on the floor letting out a string of colorful words. Words Erik never heard before, much less such words out of a woman's mouth.

"Were did you learn such language?"

Poppy stood, spun to face him even though she could not see him. " I live-lived in New York. One of the best places to learn that kind of language." She smiled up at his annoyed and shocked face.

"Hmm. Well remember you are a lady. And as a lady you such do well to remember that you are not to say such things."

Poppy huffed, and brushed her shirt off, "Yes, well, habits die hard. So this room is mine?"

"Yes. For the time being. Now, you need to go to bed."

Poppy chocked her head, "What about you?"

Erik had started to walk out of the room. He looked back at her," I don't...sleep. But you do, so do so. I will set up rules tomorrow."

Poppy had placed her pack on the bed. Her head shot up, "Rules? Rules, You are going to make me live by some stupid assed rules?"

"Language. And yes, rules. In the short amount of time since we met, I have seen that if I don't set some rules you will drive me even more insane."

"Fine, fine. You can tell me your rules."

Erik nodded, and then left, closing the door.

Poppy smirked after she heard the door close, "It doesn't mean I have to listen to them."

XxX

The next morning Poppy rolled out of bed...literally.

"Oomph! Ouch! Shit, when did I have stone floors?" Laying on her stomach, Poppy felt around on the floor. It was hard and cold. Her hands came to a soft rug. "Oh, I remember now." Poppy got up and pulled on her jeans. She dragged her brush though her messy hair. Poppy picked up her black glasses. Before she put them on, she ran her fingers over her eyes. She winced as she felt around her eyes. Poppy quickly shoved the glasses on her face. She then grabbed her pack and cane. "Time to face the music." She found her way to the door, and before opening it heard an organ being pounded on unmercifully. She sniggered, " literally. " Poppy tapped her way out to the room. The noise got louder.

Erik had not slept at all. There were two reasons why. One there was a song that refused to play out right, and two the young girl sleeping in the spare room. From the future, ha! But then she was different then all the people he ever met on his travels. She was bold. Yelling back at him, all while she's blind. Erik pounded out his emotions on the organ. Suddenly he heard a voice shouting, " That's it! Kill the poor thing! What did it ever do to you!" Erik turned and saw Poppy standing in the doorway laughing. He stood with a growl.

Poppy heard him standing with a growl. She rolled her eyes behind her glasses. "Ok. Step one, take a joke. Your life will be dull if you don't learn to have fun."

Erik just shook his head. "My turn. Step one. Dress like a lady."

"What?"

Erik smirked, "Lady's wear appropriate clothing. Not pants. If you are to learn to be a lady, then you are to first look the part."

Poppy just glared at him. A dress, she hated dresses. She has not worn a dress since that night she lost her sight. But, he was right. If he is to suffer with her, she can at least suffer with a dress. Besides, she won't be able to wear her shirt and jeans forever. She crossed her arms, "Fine. So be it."

Erik was a bit disappointed that she gave in fairly easily, but judging by the look on her face, she will not make it truly easy. "Well then, wait here and I shall go get some."

Poppy scuffed, "Does it look like I can go anywhere?"

He didn't say anything, but left to go see Madame Giry about some clothes. He knew nothing about such things.

XxX

Poppy could tell when he was gone. There was no feeling that she was being stared at. She sighed. How is she going to pull this off? Not teaching him. That's easy. Just be happily insane and eventually it will rub off on to him. She smiled evilly at the many things she could do. No, it was acting like a lady. Even before she lost her sight, she was like this. Well, she had always wanted to perform. If she pulls this off, well it will be her greatest achievement.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter **10**

Erik was hiding in the shadows waiting for Madame Giry. The ballet mistress was getting irritated at the girls. They were messing up all the steps, even the simple ones. Erik was distraught that they even tried to call themselves dancers. Much less dancers at _His_ Opera house. Giry finally ended up shouting at them and punished them by making them stay balanced on their toes for half an hour. Erik smiled cruelly, knowing that within 15 minutes they all will be crying. As Giry passed by were he was hiding, his hand shot out and grabbed her by the shoulder. She gasped, "Erik! You shouldn't do that!"

Erik chuckled, "I apologize, Madam. I see that you are having trouble with the Rats."

Madam scoffed, "The brats thought that being ballerinas would be easy. But this new bunch, well, they are nothing but spoiled rich kids. Do you see any talent?"

Erik glanced over at the bunch. He was right, most of them already had tears in their eyes, but three was holding their own. "The little blonde and the two older ones are showing promise. Give them better instructions."

Giry nodded, she trusted Erik's decisions. "As you wish. Was there anything you needed?"

Erik turned his eyes back to his friend, "Yes. I seem to have acquired a girl, in my keep."

Giry's eyebrow rose," A girl?"

"Yes. I came across her in the cellars. A rather strange one, she is. But we have a deal between us: she "helps" me become accustomed to "people" and I will allow her to stay with me, teach her our langue, and act a lady."

Giry looked at him strangely, "Erik..?"

Erik dipped his head, "No she's not! I would not stoup that low! She's more like a..." Erik waved his hand," free sprit. I will need your help. She is from...America. She knows not the ways here. Maybe you can give her something to do?"

Giry thought for a minuet, "Can she dance? Sing?"

Erik remembered the song she sung yesterday and winched, "No. And she can't dance."

"You have seen her?"

"Dance? No, she's bl-" Erik was interrupted when there was a scream and then a crash as a Rat lost her balance and caused the others to fall. They was all in a heap, crying. Erik snickered as he turned to Giry, "I best be going. Have fun straightening them out." With those words he disappeared into the shadows.

Giry peered into the black of the shadows, "Erik!" she whispered. "Erik! What about her?"

A dark whisper came from above, she looked up. Two yellow eyes looked down at her, "You'll find out tomorrow. West hall." With that the eyes disappeared.

Giry sighed, and went to think of some kind of punishment for the new group of Rats.

XxX

Poppy was bored within 10 minutes after Erik was gone. She knew not what was in the way so she only chanced her way over to the couch. Once she found it, she plopped down in it. She fingered the seams of the couch until she got bored of that. With a sigh she pulled her pack onto her lap. Opening, it she pulled out her CD player, then CD case. Poppy flipped though it, until she got to the one she wanted. She popped it in to the player. Turing it on, she begin to listen to what she thought was one of her favorites. The minute the song started, she screamed.

_There's a well beaten path in the old mountainside  
Where I wandered when I was a lad  
And I wandered alone to the place I call home  
In those Blueridge hills far away _

_Oh I love those hills of old Virginia  
From those Blueridge hills I did roam  
When --_

She opened the player, and tore the CD out. she stood and started yelling and cussing a hell storm. She took the CD and threw it was hard as she could. She heard it hit the wall.

"What's wrong with you now?" a voice said behind her.

Poppy jumped. "Erik!" Spinning around she put on a innocent face. "Why nothing at all!"

"Hmm. It didn't look or sound like it. What was it that you threw?"

She shuddered, "My brother's Flatt and Scruggs's Cd."

"What's that?"

"Evil music."

Erik was intrigued, "What did it sound like?"

Poppy's eyes widen, "Erik! You really don't want to know!"

"Now I really want to know. What did it sound like?"

Poppy winced, "Ok. But remember you asked." With that she began to sing to first chorus. She wasn't two minutes into the song when Erik clapped his hands over his ears and yelled stop.

"I_ told _you."

"Yes, and next time I'll listen to you." Erik placed a brown package in her hands, "Here. These are your new clothes."

Poppy glared at him, even though he could not see her do so. She turned and stomped out of the room.

Erik turned and picked up the object that was laying on the couch. He turned it every which way in his hands.

XxX

Poppy had the package open and the contents out on the bed. From what she felt there was three dresses, two petticoats, a chemise, and a damn corset. She had worn one before, in a play. She hated it. But, there was no other choice. Poppy pulled the chemise then the corset. She pulled on the simplest cut dress she had felt. She walked around, trying to get a feel. The corset hurt, and her movement was limited. Cursing, she stepped back out into the main room. She let out a really harsh word as the corset pinched her skin.

"Poppy. Remember you are a lady."

"Lady my ass! This damn thing hurts!"

"It can't hurt that much."

Poppy was ready to kill him. "Well, fine! Let me shove _your_ ass into this damn cage!" She snarled.

Erik looked up from his examination of the object. He could see that she was not joking. He steered her away from carrying out her threat, by asking her, "What is this?"

Poppy limped over to him, and reached out her hand. Finding his, she found that he had her CD player. "Ah. That is my CD player. You can listen to music."

Erik looked down at her hand. It was placed over his. "How?"

"Well...it's easier if I showed you." She turned to her CD case, and picked it up. She flipped though it and pulled out one. "Erik? What does the front of this say?"

Erik looked at the shiny disk. "It says Edward Scissorhands. Edward Scissorhands? What's that?"

"A soundtrack. Here," she had placed the disk into the player and turned it on. "Place these on your ears. Trust me. It's the only way to hear the music."

Erik did as she said. Placing the things over his ears, he heard a sad tune play out. "What's this?"

Poppy smiled. "It's the theme song to Edward Scissorhands. It's by Danny Elfman."

"It's lovely."

"Yes it is," she whispered. Poppy heard him sit down. She sat down beside him. He didn't play any attention to it. Poppy closed her eyes, when Erik began to hmm along with the song. She slowly drifted off, as his voice filled the stone room.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter **11**

When Poppy woke she found herself in the bed. Erik must have put her there. She sat up, no idea what time it was. Getting out of bed she smoothed down her dress. She looked for her cane, not finding it; she figured that she had left it in the other room. As she turned to the door, a muscle twitched. Pain shot though her side. The corset had been pinching her. As she rubbed her side, she walked back into the living room. There were no noises. "Erik?"

"Here. What do you what? " An annoyed voice answered her.

"Whoa. Touchy. I was just wondering what day it is."

Erik was quiet for a minuet, "Friday, I believe," he let out a exasperated sigh," This contraption of yours is broken."

Poppy's head shot up," What!" She hurried across the room, "Let me have it." Erik placed the CD player in her hand. Poppy turned the player on. It hummed, and then stopped. She let of a relived sigh. "The batteries are run down. Leave the player alone for an hour and a half, and they will charge. Were you listening to it all night?"

Erik nodded, "Yes. Your taste in music is well, strange."

Poppy chocked her head," How so?"

Erik picked up the discarded CDs. "You have classical, but then you also have music I can't describe, only that it is terrible."

Poppy snickered, "Which ones?"

Erik went though the CDs he was holding, "A Elvis Presley..."

"How the hell did_ that _get in there?"

"...a Aerosmith..."

"Opps..."

"...and something called...The Rocky Horror Picture Show."

Horror crossed Poppy's face, "Oh my! Erik, I am so sorry you had to listen to that!" She hugged him; Erik was so shocked that he didn't move. "Erik it's ok. The horror of it will pass!" She let go of him but kept her hands on his shoulders," Now. Are you sure you're ok? Why am I asking? Of course your not! You heard the music of horror!"

Erik looked at her like she was insane. She probably was. Erik took her hands off his shoulders. "Come. I have enlisted the help of a...friend of mine. She can help you even more then I can on some things."

Poppy put the CD player on the couch and began to look for her cane, "Who?"

Erik placed his cape upon his shoulders," Madame Giry. She and a few others know English. Now come."

"Ok, ok. "She continued to feel for her cane, finding it, she jumped up and tapped over to Erik. He helped her into the boat. Little did he know that the little hug Poppy had given him was part of his "training". He had not pushed her away, probably was too shocked. But still...Poppy snickered quietly. Who said you can't teach an old dog new tricks?

Erik was indeed shocked. Every thing in his body had screamed to push her away, but he had found himself enjoying the hug. His mother had never hugged him, so he had welcomed it. He shook his head. They had reached the other side of the lake. Erik led her up though the cellars. Along the way he told her what to tell them. "You are from America. Cannot speak French. No family, no were to go, so the only place you could go was to the Opera house to hopefully find a job."

"Well, you sure know how to depress a person."

Erik turned to find her grinning. "Of course. Now be quiet. At dark you will met me at the west hall. I will be waiting for you there. Don't be late."

"Yes sir!"

At the West hall, Madame Giry was pacing back and forth. A whisper came from above. "Erik?"

"Yes."

She sighed. "I wish you would stop slinking around in the dark."

He hissed, "I _have_ no choice!"

Madame Giry shook, but before she could apologize she heard a voice.

"Erik! It was a phrase. Remember people skills here. You can't go hissing at people like a cat or a snake. You could've started will something like," a tall redheaded girl stepped out from the shadows, "Hello, Madame Giry."

Madame Giry took her hand. "Bonjour, mademoiselle. Welcome to the Opera Populaire."

"Thank you."

Erik stepped out from the shadows. Madame Giry turned to him, "This the girl?"

"Yes. Find her something to do. At dark make sure she's back here." With that he disappeared into the shadows again


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter **12**

Madame Giry watched him go then turned to the girl, taking in her appearance. She was tall, had a dancer's frame. Very thin, with ruby red hair that framed her pale face. Madame Giry could not see her eyes because large smoked glasses covered that. In fact, they were almost like a mask; they covered her eyes so much. She also was holding a cane. She was...blind.

"Forgive me for asking but I was wondering..."

"That am I blind? Yes. For 10 years."

"How?"

The girl dipped her head; "I would prefer not to talk about it right now, please?"

"I apologize. Now what's your name, and how old are you?"

Her head rose, and she smiled, "My name is Poppy O'Collen. I am 19."

Madame Giry nodded, "Good. Now what can you do?"

Poppy thought, "Well, before I went blind I danced. I still dance at times when I know the area well. But, many people thought a blind dancer was, well, asking for trouble. So I turned to singing."

They had been walking along as Poppy was telling her this. Madame Giry glanced over at Poppy, "Erik told me that you could not dance or sing."

Poppy laughed, "We only just met. He don't know that much about me yet."

"Hmm, well, I'll find some place to put you."

They arrived to the stage were a group of Rats was practicing. "Girls," Madame Giry tapped the floor with her cane, "I would like to interduse, Poppy O'Cullen. She'll be dancing extra."

Poppy gasped, "But Madame! You have not seen me dance!"

"_Yes! Can't you see that she's blind?" _This came from most of the ballet rats_. "She has no place here!"_

"Quiet!" Madame Giry shouted.

They fell silent. "We'll give her a chance. Meg. Go get her a costume and slippers. Poppy go with her."

"Yes Madame." She felt her hand being pulled, so she followed.

In the costume room, Meg chattered on. Finally Poppy could stand it no more. "Meg! What's your dysfunction?"

Meg shut up and turned to her. "What?"

Poppy sighed, "Never mind. Do you know Christine Daae?"

"Yes, why? How do you know her?"

Opps. "I...have head of her name before. My past father knew hers. He talked about her father. He was a violinist? When her father died, mine fingered that Christine would be sent here. And when mine died in America, I traveled here." Damn that was a terrible lie.

Meg was confused, "Oh, I see."

Poppy breathed a sigh of relief. Stupid girl. She finished tying the slippers on. "Ok. I'm ready"

"Great! Come on!" Poppy felt her arm being pulled again.

Out on the stage Madame Giry had Poppy warm up. Muscles screamed but Poppy ignored them. Finally Madame Giry said it was enough.

"Were and what do you want me to start with?"

"Do you remember the basics?"

"Yes."

Start with those, and I'll see what we can do with you."

Poppy sighed. She's going to murder Erik, or make him wish he were dead. She began on Ponte, and then twisted. When she was nine, her teacher had said she was going to be great. That she even exiled the seasoned dancers. Until she was in the wreak that took her eye sight.

XxX

Erik had been watching Christine, until Poppy began to dance. She was good. All most good as Meg Giry. She kept center stage. Her twists and jumps were perfect. Only some mistakes. He wondered how she was able to do so. After 15 minutes Madame Giry had her to stop. "You did very well. You will be added into the back chorus."

The Rats let out groans until Giry thumped the floor with her cane. "Now I need to see if you can sing."

Erik winched. He heard her sing! Her manners was better then her singing. He almost felt sorry for the people down there. Almost. Since he heard her 'sing' before, Erik decided to go and prepare himself to give Christine her lessons. He slipped into the column and dropped down to a tunnel and headed to Christine's dressing room.

XxX

"Which song?" Poppy asked.

"Does not matter. Sing one in your vocal range. Do you know it?" Madame Giry inquired.

"Yes. I am a mezzo."

"Good. Now begin."

Poppy bit her lip as she thought for a song that would not shock these poor inprasanale people.

_I'm keeping my calendar open  
Even if it takes me years  
'Til you figure out what your plan is  
You figure out all of your fears  
I don't wanna know anything about her  
Or what you feel like you have to defend  
But I've seen your situation  
And the world she keeps you in _

_I'm keeping my distance  
I'm keeping my distance  
And I'll wait until my time is here  
I'm keeping my distance  
I'm keeping my distance  
And I'll wait until you make it clear _

_If you don't want to rush it baby  
Well then by all means don't  
But I'm gonna wait for the day when  
When you see that it's me you want  
I can see, I can tell that you need me  
You know that I need you too  
So why on earth can't you ever let her go  
Will you ever try anything new _

_I'm keeping my distance  
I'm keeping my distance  
And I'll wait until my time is here  
I'm keeping my distance  
I'm keeping my distance  
And I'll wait until you make it clear _

_Where will you find the strength  
I can't hold you against your will  
You keep me at arm's length  
I'm reaching out to hold you still, yeah, yeah, yeah _

_I can see that you need me  
You know that I need you too  
So why on earth can't you ever let her go  
Will you ever try anything new _

_I'm keeping my distance  
I'm keeping my distance  
And I'll wait until my time is here  
I'm keeping my distance  
I'm keeping my distance _

At the end of the song Poppy heard clapping. She turned to the sound.

"Bravo! _(Very well done Mademoiselle...?_) Madame Giry answered for Poppy

_(Poppy O'Cullen. She will be joining the back chorus.)_

_(The back choruses? Non. non. She'll go in the front.)_

(_Monsieur Reyer. She can't. Mademoiselle is blind. And she knows not the present opera, but knows enough that she can go in back chorus.)_

Monsieur Reyer walked up to Poppy, "_(You are blind? How do you know some ballet?)_

Poppy felt like panicking. He spoke French. All that she knew he said was something about ballet. "Um. Non...En Frances?"

Monsieur Reyer looked shocked, "Non En Frances?"

Poppy nodded, then winched as he began yelling at Madame Giry. She found her herself surrounded by the younger Ballet Rats. "Don't worry Poppy. Mother will prevail." Meg. "She always does." Meg took Poppy's hand and led her around interdusing her to all the other Rats. "This is Jammes."

"Bonjour Poppy. (Welcome to the Opera house.) Poppy could tell that this little girl was like Meg, chattily.

"And this is ..."

Poppy began to lose track and let Meg's voice go in one ear and out the other. Only a few spoke English. "And this is Christine Daae. Christine? Christine? Are you day dreaming again?"

Christine? Finally. Poppy pricked up. Now the fun begins.

"Oh I'm sorry Meg. What did you say?" Christine did have a lovely voice. But it was so sugar sweet that it made Poppy's teeth ach.

"This is Poppy. She's new."

"Bonjour Poppy. We are glad to have you here. You sing and dance rather well."

Poppy, again knew it was wrong to hate her already, but she did. It took all of her will power to smile nicely." Thank you. Of course, I have not had lessons from an angel. I know I would die to have one teach me his secret." Even though Poppy could not see, she knew that Christine had paled.

"Wh-what?" She stuttered, "Why do you say angle?"

God, this girl is dense. "Well, only an angel can sing so heavenly. I would worship the ground he walked on." Inside Poppy gagged. _Did I just say that? Never again._

"I-" Christine was stopped when Madame Giry walked over.

"Poppy?"

"Yes, Madame Giry?"

She sighed," Well, you are in. Practice is every day on the stage. You can keep the practice costume and slippers."

Oh goody.

"I best get you back. Girls, practice is over for today. Now go to you dorms. Off with you." The girls scrambled off. Madame Giry Turned back to Poppy. " Go get changed. I'll meet you back here."

Poppy turn to make her way back when her belly growled stopped her. She giggled. "Ah, Madame Giry?"

"Yes Cherie?"

"I hate to ask but is there any way I could get something to eat?"

"Oui. I'll take you to the kitchens after you change."

"Thank you." With that she hurried back to the room were her dress was. After she changed, she and Madame Giry walked to the kitchens. Poppy ate. She never ate much. Eating was boring. As she ate she talked with the Ballet Mistress. Poppy ended up telling her how she lost her sight, even showing her secret. It was almost dark when they turned into the West hall. Erik was waiting. He nodded to Madame Giry and both he and Poppy dissaprnaed into the shadows.

XxX


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter **13**

Over the next month Poppy excelled in the chorus. She was deftly moved from the back chorus to front. Monsieur Reyer could not fault her manners nor determination to exceed. Here, they needed every dancer, so they were not picky. She has not been in any shows yet due to her...problem. But she and Madame Giry were working on it.

Her singing was great, though she never got solos. This was due to La Carlotta. The diva hated Poppy on sight. Of course Poppy didn't help. The first time that they met, they crossed words.

"_You call this a Opera House?" _Carlotta shrieked one day.

Poppy had been listening for Erik. It was due time he showed up. Over the past week, he had been neglecting his haunting. His oppression over Christine was unhealthy. He was making himself sick over her. Erik's progress in the "people skills" was going slowly. All he did was give Christine singing lessons, then hurry back to his lair, write more music for the ungrateful witch. Then pound out his distressed self, on the organ. Poppy would set back and wonder how good life was, for if she did what she felt like doing, life would indeed be very short. She snorted, annoyed and mumbled, "Of course it isn't, not with you squawking around here."

Carlotta heard her, being able to speak some English. "What did you say Rat?" She said in English.

Poppy sighed and turned to her, "I said, Of course it isn't, not with you squawking around here. It's an Opera house. Not a hen house."

Everyone gasped.

"You dare to say that to me?" Carlotta's voice rose higher.

Poppy winched at the sound. Her hearing was sensitive. Carlotta's voice cut though to the bone. "I dare."

Even though Poppy could not see her, she heard Carlotta walk up to her. She felt hot sour breath in her face.

Carlotta peered into Poppy's face. She took in the large smoked glasses. She snapped her head back, "This Rat is blind! A blind dancer? You put a blind dancer in the Ballet Coups?"

Before anyone could come to Poppy's defense, Poppy did it herself. " Yes, they did. And _you_ must be blind yourself. I have been here for a whole month."

"So you think you know music? Know the song? You sing it then!" With that Carlotta grabbed Poppy's wrist and drug her to the front center. She then pushed her up in front of her. "Now. Sing."

"_Signora! Please! You don't have to prove your point_!" Stammered Reyer.

"Yes I do! This...Rat has to be broken." She turned to Poppy, "Sing! Now!" She screeched.

Poppy winched. This was not supposed to happen! Not like this! They were doing "Hannibal." Old for her, new for them. They were not to perform it for another 6 months. The piece was hard for them. She, of course knew the songs, and the whole opera, but they didn't. If she sung now, she'll mess everything...up. That's right. She wanted to mess it all up.

"_Please Signora! She knows not the song, nor opera. She_..." Reyer was interrupted when Poppy shook her head.

"Je le con…n…nais le chanson. Je..v...v..voulior essai" Poppy stuttered out in broken French.

Reyer was shocked. "_Very well, Mademoiselle. You may try." _

Poppy didn't understand a word he said, but when the orchestra started, she knew that he had agreed. The intro began, and she swallowed, and then began. Her voice cracked at the beginning, but grow stronger.

_Think of me, think of me fondly, when we've said goodbye.  
Remember me once in a while - please promise me you'll try. _

_When you find that, once again, you long to take your heart back  
and be free - if you ever find a moment spare a thought for me ... _

_We never said our love was evergreen,  
or as unchanging as the sea - but if you can still remember,  
stop and think of me ... _

_Think of all the things we've shared and seen -  
don't think about the things, which might have been ... _

_Think of me, think of me waking, silent and resigned. _

_Imagine me, trying too hard to put you from my mind. _

_Recall those days, look back on all those times,  
think of the things we'll never do - there will never be a day, when  
I won't think of you ... _

_We never said our love was evergreen,  
or as unchanging as the sea - but please promise me,  
that sometimes, you will think of me!_

XxX

Erik had been wondering around the flies when he heard Carlotta shriek. He groaned. He really needed to get rid of her. Christine's voice was almost ready to be shown. Just a few more months. Over the past week, Erik had been neglecting his haunting. His oppression to get Christine ready had been paying off. He was almost ready to drop a set on Carlotta when he heard Poppy. Poppy. He almost forgot about her at times. She tried several times to get him to take break from Christine. But he would hear nothing of it. Finally she gave up. Erik smiled slightly as he heard her berate Carlotta. Poppy was a great dancer. Even though she was blind, she had been moved up to front. She was exuding more then her bargain. He wasn't. For a minuet he felt almost...guilty. But then it passed. He watched a little while longer, and as he was fixing to leave, Erik heard something that made him stop.

"So you think you know music? Know the song? You sing it then! Now. Sing."

He looked back down and saw Carlotta drag and push Poppy to the front, in front of Reyer. Her sing operatic songs? He had heard more of her insufferable singing down in the lair. Her favorite seemed to be john-------. What ever that meant. He would yell at her to stop, but she'll go right back singing it. So, even though she annoyed him to no end and he enjoyed their arguments...he needed to see this. To see how she will ether pull it off, or get out of it.

He heard Poppy stutter in bad French "Je le con…n…nais le chanson. Je..v...v..voulior essai " His eyebrow rose.

She began singing the aria for Elissa; Think of Me. Erik smirked when he heard her voice crack. Right now, even, Christine was weak with the song. She can't make it past the second chorus, so Erik was curious, as how much she knows. If she even knows it.

She knew it. How, he did not know. The ballet rats did not practice new operas with the singers. So Poppy should not know it. And her voice! Granted it was not as good as Christine's but it held such promise. How had he missed it? She must have mean porously been singing badly. But why? He will find out tonight. He'll give Christine a break. Tonight he needed some answers.

XxX

Poppy finished the song. Her voice had cracked a few times, got a few notes wrong but she had done very well, if she did say so herself. And apparently she shocked everyone else. They were all quiet. Soon, she heard a lot of them clapping. Carlotta was embarrassed. She huffed and stormed off the stage.

Reyer clapped and before he could say anything, Poppy heard a new voice.

"_So. Who is the new singer_?"

_"Monsieur Lefevre! Welcome back! How was your trip?"_

_"Marvelous! Now who is this charming young lady?" _

Madame Giry stepped forward, "_This is Poppy O'Cullen. She is in the Ballet Coups_."

_"Oh no she's not! She's going up with the singers!"_

One of the snippy ballet rats smugly said," _But Monsieur Lefevre, She can't. She's blind."_

Poppy felt like killing her. But Madame Giry stepped forward. "_Yes. It is true that she is blind, but she is a real hard worker, and knows a lot about this opera_."

Monsieur Lefevre walked up to Poppy. "_You are a hard worker? Well, we'll see. Monsieur Reyer? See to it she practices every day. Now I need to know. Were did you learn how to sing?"_

Poppy was ready to answer when Madame Giry again stopped her,"_She's been taking lessons from a great teacher."_

Monsieur Lefevre was curious, _"What's his name?"_

Now doesn't this sound familiar? Poppy again was saved from answering when Madame Giry answered.

**Ok, Ok. Stop. Story grinds to a halt. Now this is sounding familiar. Well, I guess from here on out it well be really screwy. Almost like the movie, but with big twists and time mess ups, and well.. Ah shit I don't know. All I know is that is going to get interesting. Moving ahead.**

Poppy walked down the West hall. She was tired. Happy. Contented. Ecstatic. Pleased. Satisfied, and screwed. She really is messing everything up. She remembered what Christine had said.

"You have been getting lessons from The Angel of Music?"

Poppy was grumpy and mad that Christine had after all those years had never asked Erik his name. Even Angels have names. There's Gaberal, Michael, Abariel, Tarot and Lucifer...wait; better not compare Erik with that one. "No. I have been getting lessons from Erik," she snarled and headed to the West wing.

How is she going to tell Erik? She could wait? Yes. She'll wait and tell him latter...Poppy felt a leather glove cover her mouth and another across her stomach. She let out a muffled curse.

"You will tell me all that you know, and have been keeping from me. Tonight." Erik whispered in her ear.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter **14**

Erik drug Poppy down the hall, and down to his lair. Poppy struggled to have him let go, but he ignored her and continued to drag her. Poppy rolled her eyes. It always seemed he was dragging her around every chance he got. Like she was some damn pull toy. When they got to the lair, Erik let go of her long enough to shove her down into a chair.

"Now. Explain." Erik snapped.

Poppy smirked, "Explain what? The parking ticket? John Boy calling all night? Or the peanut butter in the organ?"

"No! That-," Erik froze, "What about the organ?"

Poppy's smirk turned into a grin. She burst out laughing. "Nothing! Just playing with you! You have been neglecting your 'people lessons', have to put them in somewhere."

Erik couldn't resist the small smile that came upon his full lips. He quickly bit it away. "We'll talk about that latter..."

"Oh! So you're not going to kill me?"

Erik sighed. Did he scare her that bad? "No. I have no reason to...

Poppy put a look of false disappointment on, "Well, shucks."

"Yet," Erik finished with a glare.

Poppy sniggered.

"Now how did you know the song? Even Christine does not know the whole song. Much less Carlotta."

"I-" Poppy's mind raced, "heard you sing it to Christine? When-you was trying to teach her it?"

Erik shook his head, "You're lying. You have not been with me up to Christine's mirror since that day we met. Now tell me the truth. If you know as much about me as much as you had claimed, then you'll now that I'm not one to be lied to. You are a tremble liar. I know. I've heard you talk to the dancers. Thank god, that they are not that smart. Now tell me. I what to know how much you know."

Poppy bit her lip. She sighed, "Ok. Can you get me my pack?"

Erik turned and walked in to Poppy's temporarily room and picked up her red pack. He carried it back to the living room. Poppy had brought her legs up under her skirt. Ayesha was curled up in her lap, Poppy petting her head. Her head was down, her chin on her chest. Her red hair was hanging on ether side of her face. "Poppy?" Her head came up and she smiled. Candles glinted off of her smoked glasses. Now that Erik looked fully at her, he remembered that she always wore her glasses around him. He couldn't help but wonder why. He never saw her eyes, and he wondered what color they would be. "Here." He placed the pack in her hands.

Poppy began rummaging though it. She pulled out her friend's book. Then her CD player. Poppy then tore into a secret pocket. Out, she pulled the 2004 soundtrack, Phantom of the Opera. She placed it into the player. She then handed the book and player out to Erik. Poppy felt them leave her hands. "Ok. As I have told you, that book is about you. As you see and as I have told you, I am from the future. In the future you are well known. There has been dozens of movies made, that tells your story. In 19-"

Here Erik interrupted her. "Movies? What are those?"

Poppy twisted her jaw in thought, "Well, you take hundreds of pictures, and they are flipped though very fast and it then looks like the pictures are truly moving."

Erik was intrigued, "And when will this happen?"

"Not long. In about 40, 50 years I believe. Somewhere here in France. Not sure exactly. Anyway in 1986, the book was turned into a musical."

"A musical? Not an opera?"

Poppy laughed a little, "No not as a opera," Erik's mouth opened, but before he could say anything, she went on," and no, I don't know why. It was a big hit. So big, in fact it it's self was made in to a movie in 2004. Became even bigger, due to one sex-," Poppy paused and cleared her throat, "talented, yes, talented actor that portrayed you. That CD is the music from the movie."

Erik looked down at the player. Should he? He could find out about him and Christine. But would it change how he felt about her? He looked up. "Poppy. Tell me. In the book are I and Christine together?" He watched her face. She winced when Christine's name was motioned, but he choose to ignore it, not knowing her meaning as to why she did just that every time her name was motioned. Sorrow then passed over her face.

"Well, there's this young boy. A viscount. He-well-he will end up marring Chris-," She didn't get much further, because of Erik.

"No! You lie!" He shouted. Erik shoved the player and book back to her.

Poppy shook her head, "No, I'm not. As you have said I am a terrible liar."

Erik jumped up, "You are lying!"

Poppy stood too, "I am not," her temper rising as well," If you don't believe me, well, then read the book!"

How cliché.

Erik walked up to Poppy and struck her across the face. Her head snapped to the left. Her glasses fell off. Erik froze. He has never hit a woman. He was truly a monster.

Poppy froze as well. She knew why he had hit her and she didn't blame him. She was only worried about her glasses. And keeping her eyes covered until she found them. "I see Erik." With that she kept her face away and bent down to find her glasses. Thank god they didn't fall far. She picked them up and keeping her head turned, she put them back on. Poppy then turned to face Erik. He was still in front of her. "Here read the book." She held her hand out and dropped it at his feet. Then turned and walked in to her room.

Erik watched her calmly drop the book and walk to her room and close it. He looked back down at the book. The white mask on the cover stared mockly back up at him. Erik scooped the book up and went to his own room. He sat down and began to read.

Poppy sit on the bed. Her glasses were off beside her. She wanted to cry, but knew what would happen if she did. She touched her eyes and winched at the deep-set scars. Ugly. She placed her forehead on the bed, dry sobs racking her body. No, she was not crying because Erik hit had hit her. No, she was crying because at the moment it all seemed helpless. An hour latter, and a still dry-eyed she made her way to Erik's room. Poppy knocked on the door. A minute latter Erik opened it. "Oui?" Sounded like he had been crying too.

She smiled, a weak one, but a smile, "Erik, I still can't speak French that well yet."

Erik looked down at her. She looked exhausted. "You know want-" He got it. A joke. "Poppy I want to say I'm sorry. I never meant to hit you. I just didn't want to face the fact that Christine-," Poppy winced, "could love anther."

Poppy nodded. She couldn't think of anything to say.

"I have something to ask you."

"Yes?"

"Could you help me? Help me get Christine to fall in love with me?"

Why did he have to ask her that? Her useless eyes filled with the dreaded tears, as she heard the pleading help in his voice. She nodded. Then wrapped him into a hug. He stiffened, but then hugged her back. She rested her head on his shoulder as the tears brought small shudders of pain to her. "I'll try Erik."


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter **15**

The next day found Poppy unusually quiet. She sat on the couch, doing nothing. Not singing her annoying songs, trying to joke with Erik, or anything. Just staring blindly at nothing. Erik was gone, somewhere. He was gone when she had gotten up. She sighed. Ayesha jumped up on the couch beside her. "Oh, Ayesha. What am I to do? I want him to be happy. But he deserves much more then that trollop. She has no brains. No backbone. How can I help him?"

Poppy sighed again. Then brightened. "I know how to take away the gloom and doom for the movement." She hurried and got her CD player. Since the time she's been down here, she now knew her way around. She went to a table that had a cornucopia on it. She made sure that it was empty. Poppy then placed the headphones near the small end. She then turned it on. Music blared out, making the stone cavern room echo it all-round. She grinned. A perfect way to forget about the present problem.

The song had a nice beat sound. 'They might be Giants-Putting on the Ritz,' CD. As the song went on she began dancing to the beat. She laughed as she spun around. Music always made her forget where she was. The song ended, and she changed CDs. Well, since she had missed Christmas, she figured that she'd play a simple Christmassy song. After trying several CDs, she found the one she was looking for.

_Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens  
Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens, _she spun around in time to the music._  
Brown paper packages tied up with string,  
These are a few of my favorite things. _

_Cream colored ponies and crisp apple strudel,  
Door bells and sleigh bells and schnitzel with noodles  
Wild geese that fly with the moon on their wing,  
These are a few of my favorite things. _

_Girls in white dresses and blue satin sashes, _she began to sing long,  
_Snow-flakes that stay on my nose and eye-lashes,  
Silver white win-ters that melt into spring,  
These are a few of my favorite things, _

_When the dog bites,  
When the bee stings,  
When I'm feeling sad,  
I simply remember my favorite things,  
And then I don't feel so bad.  
_  
XxX

Erik was giving Christine her lessons. He made her work extra hard. He liked Poppy and her rising in the opera house was fine, if she was to stay as a dancer, but she shown that she could be compaction for Christine. If it was Carlotta, he would not mind, but he had worked so hard to get Christine to where she was.

"Non!" Erik snapped, causing Christine to jump. From behind the mirror he saw tears welled up in her big eyes, "That's not the right note! It's a high C. Do it again."

"But Angel, I'm tired. We have been singing for hours straight."

Erik shook his head, "You need to work harder. The new girl can easily beat you. We worked too hard, to let her replace you."

Christine chocked her head," How will you get her to resign?"

"I have my ways. Now, begin with, Think of Me..."

Two hours latter Erik walked back to his lair, contented. Christine was finally ready. After her lessons he made a little visit to Lefevre. From behind a wall, he told the twitchy man to put on the opera earlier then scheduled. Now, he had on more thing to do: get Poppy out from Reyar. Put her back in the chorus. She had a great voice. It was almost a shame to not teach her as well. As Erik got closer to his lair he heard some music. It had a beautiful haunting sound. He walked into his lair, and saw where the music was coming from. Poppy had placed her headphones up at the end of the cornucopia so that the horn would bring the sound out more. Poppy herself was dancing around the stone room. She was wearing one of the dresses that he had gotten her. It was simple, but she filled it out well. As Erik stood there watching her, she spun, her ruby red hair fanning out behind her, and began to sing with the song. Her own voice bounced off the walls. She threw her emotions into the very song and made it better. The song ended, and Poppy stopped. She stood in the middle of the room. She hung her head, "What if I make it all worse?"

Erik walked up behind her, but before he could say anything she turned around, "Salute Erik."

"How, did you know?"

She smiled, "I smelled you. Nice cologne."

"What was that song?"

Poppy walked over to the cornucopia and picked up her player. "It was called My Favorite Things, by Lori Morgan. I did it for my very first singing residual. A big hit. It was then I decided that I wanted to perform again." She walked back to the couch and set down to catch her breath.

Erik followed. He sat down in the chair in front of her. "Tell me about yourself. All I know is that you are from the future and danced, when you were younger."

Poppy was resigned whether or not to tell him all about her. She then concluded that she didn't have to play show-and-tell. Only tell. "Well, as you may know or heard I was not always blind. Before it happened, I was in ballet. I was very good according to my teacher. She had told my parents and me many times that I had talent and could go far. Well, my parents are the kind to push their kids to the extreme. So they did that to me. From two years old to nine, I danced. Day in day out. I was pushed to my limits and further. But when I was nine, disaster struck. My mother and me were on the way to yet another dance residual, when a drunk driver came at us. He struck my side of the car. Glass flew at my face," Poppy paused remembering the horrid night. Erik saw the fear and past pain cross her face. He knew all too well about memories. They are painful. He waited until she was ready to talk again. She took a deep breath and began again. "I still remember what it was like. One minute I saw shards of glass flying at my face, the next nothing, but blackness. And pain. The most excoriating pain. It spread from my eyes to around the eyes. My mother was screaming, what I can't remember, but she had a broken arm. I felt hands pull me from the car. They laid me on the ground. I could hear gasps of horror, and disgust. I kept hearing a voice saying "Don't, cry. What ever you do don't cry." Poppy scuffed, "'don't cry," she mocked," Ha! I was too much in shock to cry. Pain reradiated from my very eyeballs." Poppy sighed," It was not until latter that I found out that my eyes had been cut. The nerves slivered. Overnight, green went to...another color. Around my eyes was also cut badly. My parents said they still loved me, but I was now a disgrace to them. No pretty little red haired girl to dance for their rich friends."

Erik felt compassion. It was harder to have love then lose it, then not to have love. "But you still dance. And are very good. Why didn't they.."

"I don't know!" Poppy screamed at him.

Erik blinked in shock. "What?"

"I don't know! People are funny like that." She hung her head, "I'm sorry I yelled."

"It's fine. You were cheated. Now, why and how did you choose singing as your next option?" Erik questioned.

Poppy smiled, "You."

Erik was taken back, "What? Me? How?"

She grinned, "Well, one of my friends had tickets to a Phantom of the Opera show. She asked if I wanted to go. I said yes. It was my first time hearing the play. The music was so beautiful and compassionate that I wanted to sing like that. Well, my parents were not happy. They thought I was helpless. So for years I sunk lessons and sang every chance I got. Finally, when I was 17 I had my first residual. My parents were glad that I had good voice, but not so glad that I wanted to make it my career. When I came here I had just come back from an audition."

Erik was baffled, "Did you get the part?"

Poppy faced him full and snarled, "No. They didn't want a blind singer."

"I am so very sorry. I-"

"I don't worry about it. No use crying over spilled milk. Here, they aren't so picky. I have a chance to now have a possible career in singing, opera no less."

That's what he needed to tell her. "I have something to ask you."

Poppy pricked up, "Yes?"

"It's about Christine."

Her face fell, "Oh."

"I pulled some strings and they will be performing "Hannibal" earlier then scheduled. I want you to pull out of singing and go back to chorus, so that Christine will sing instead." Erik told her.

Tears welled up behind her glasses. If she wasn't as strong as she was, she would of run crying to her room. But she was strong, so she nodded, "Ok. I'll tell them that I hurt my ankle or strained my throat. Something." She stood, her face becoming cold and hard. "Now if you excuse me,_ Monsieur_ I must go and think of a lie." She then turned and walked out of the room.

Erik was confused, "Poppy what's wrong?"

Poppy turned around, her face cruel, "Why nothing at all. Just giving your _Angel_ the limelight, since she is so much of a angel and," She voice cracked, "since you love her so much. I did promised didn't I?" With that she hurried out of the room, leaving one discombobulated Phantom staring after her.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter **16**

In the past week a lot of events had happened. Poppy didn't talk to Erik at all. She rose in the morning and with out a word went up a safe path that Erik had shown her. Poppy ended up telling Reyer that she had strained her voice that she will not be able to sing. He had panicked of course, until Poppy ruefully mentioned Christine. He had her to sing, and moved her to Poppy's spot. Poppy turned and walked away, before anyone could see the tears that were threatening to fall. Before practice, she told Madame that she was feeling sick and could not perform that night.

"Poppy what's wrong?" She asked.

Poppy just shook her head. How can she tell her that she was suffering from hate and heart ach? "I just don't feel too well. I am just tired. I-" Poppy was interrupted by a loud commotion.

Reyer had been instructing Christine when Lefevre interrupted the singers practice.

"_This way. Rehearsals, as you see, are under way for a new production of Chalumeau's Hannibal_."

Right on cue.

Poppy heard Reyer, let out exacerbated sigh, "Monsieur Lefever, I am rehearsing." Poor guy. Poppy had always felt sorry for the ol' guy.

Lefever went on, but Poppy tuned him out. She walked to the back of the stage and ran right into some one. "Oh! So sorry!"

"_Pardon_?"

Poppy repeated in French, "_I'm sorry. I didn't see you."_

"_It's fine Mademoiselle. May I have your name_?"

"She sighed, "_It's Poppy O'Collen_."

He laughed a little, "_You are not a native here in France?"_

Poppy couldn't help but smile, "_No. How can you tell?"_

The man laughed again," _For one thing, you have no accent, and your French is a bit broken."_

She smirked, "_If you think it's bad now, you should have heard me when I first came. I couldn't speak any at all."_

_"I say that you are doing remarkably well."_

Poppy dipped her head, "_Thank you."_

"_You going to dance or sing in the opera tonight_?" he asked.

"_Non. I'm not."_

_"That's a shame. I would have enjoyed watching for you."_

Poppy blushed. What was wrong with her? She was acting like a preteen schoolgirl. _"Monsieur, I gave you my name, you have yet to tell me yours."_

_"My apologies Mademoiselle. My name is-"_

"_The Viscomte de Chagny_!" a voice rang out.

He chuckled a little, "_And there you have it. I am Raoul de Chagny. Now I must be going, but may I see you latter?"_

Poppy opened her mouth, but nothing came out. _"I-you-must go. They are dieing to introduce you."_

"_You are right, it was a pleasure meeting you." _He then did something that really surprised her; he took her right hand and lightly kissed it. "_Good bye." _He then walked off to join the others.

Poppy stood there feeling even sicker. Raoul de Chagny. The Fop. The...but...he was charming. Poppy walked off disgusted with her self. She knew what would happen now. The two new owners will drool over the dancers. But since Carlotta was not here, things, she knew will go differently. Also Christine will spot Raoul, maybe even get introduced. She sighed as she made her way down to Erik's lair. He might or might not be there. More then likely he was still up playing around in the flies. She was half way to the lair, when her cane got trapped in a hole and snapped. Poppy picked up the pieces. The broken wood lied in her hands. Suddenly she burst out into tears. She fell to her knees. It was all too much. Her finally being able to be a full performer, then have it taken away. Of course she could of said no and walked out, forgetting him. But she was...was what? In love with him? She could love him unconditional, but he'll never love her back. He wanted perfect Christine. Even if Poppy helps Erik, Christine will still break his heart. She was that kind of female. One that wanted looks. As Poppy sat there having a break down, she didn't hear Erik come up behind her.

"Poppy what's wrong? Are you hurt?"

The concern in his voice made her cry even harder. She stood and ran the rest of the way to the lair. She ran straight into her room. Lying on the bed, she cried the painful tears that always made her eyes hurt. She cursed herself for being so weak.

XxX

Erik watched Poppy run away. He had left the flies early, when Madam Giry flagged him down. She told him that she was concerned about Poppy. Poppy had aberrantly asked not to dance that evening. Said that she was not feeling well. Madame then presided to tell him that Poppy has been really pushing herself past her limits. Very dangerously. That when Giry called the day, Poppy stayed behind and continued. Also that she has not been eating at all. Now that Erik looked back and remembered, Poppy had been looking even more tired and white. Also thinner. He was worried about his feisty companion. But he'll have to see to her latter. Tonight was the night that he truly introduces himself to Christine.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter** 17**

Poppy didn't have to go up to watch the opera. She knew it was a success. She lay stretched out on the bed just waiting. She hadn't seen Erik since she had ran into him in one of the cellars. This whole existence was getting preposterous. She needed to find a way home. Her hand stretched out and petted Ayesha. The cat had been keeping her company all night. She began purring and Poppy smiled. Why was she mopping? She had never let others get to her, so why now? She'll show Erik that he can do much better. Yes, it was true. She _was_ mad at him, but it also was not his fault. Love is blind, and Erik was blinder then Poppy right now. She'll teach him to see again.

Poppy was conducting a plan when she heard Christine vocalizing. Poppy sighed. Well, it was also true that Christine had a good voice; But Poppy had done well in chemistry. Erik had a lab. She had stumbled in to it one day. Erik didn't know of course, but Poppy there after, snuck back in and began to memorize her way around.

Poppy heard Erik sing..._ "I have brought you to the seat of sweet music's throne ...  
to this kingdom where all must pay homage to music ...  
music...You have come here, for one purpose, and one alone ...  
I first heard you sing,  
I have needed you with me, to serve me, to sing, for my music ...  
my music ..." _

Poppy sighed, waiting for the rest of the song and leaned against the door, listening. Erik began singing one of her favorite songs, Music of the Night.

_"Night-time sharpens, heightens each sensation ...  
Darkness stirs and wakes imagination ...  
Silently the senses abandon their defenses ... _

_Slowly, gently night unfurls its splendor ...  
Grasp it, sense it - tremulous and tender ...  
Turn your face away from the garish light of day,  
turn your thoughts away from cold, unfeeling light -  
and listen to the music of the night ... _

_Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams!  
Purge your thoughts of the life you knew before!  
Close your eyes, let your spirit start to soar!  
And you'll live as you've never lived before ... _

_Softly, deftly, music shall surround you ...  
Feel it, hear it, closing in around you ...  
Open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind,  
in this darkness which you know you cannot fight -  
the darkness of the music of the night. _

_Let your mind start a journey through a strange, new world!  
Leave all thoughts of the world you knew before!  
Let your soul  
Take you where you long to be!  
Only then can you belong to me ... _

_Floating, falling, sweet intoxication!  
Touch me, trust me, savor each sensation!  
Let the dream begin,  
let your darker side give in to the power of  
the music that I write - the power of the music of the night ... _

_You alone can make my song take flight -_ Poppy sang softly along with him. _help me make the music of the night ..." _

She stayed against the wall, pretending that it was she out there in Erik's arms, not the airhead. Like Erik all she wanted was someone to love her too. She heard Erik carry Christine into the next room and finish the song. Poppy soon fell asleep with her head leaning against the door.

XxX

The next morning Poppy woke to the sound of Erik playing his organ. Again he was pounding on the poor thing. She listened carefully. She had to mark her timing carefully. Poppy cracked the door open a bit and listened and waited. Soon enough, Poppy heard Christine on the move. Poppy slipped out of the room and slunk behind her.

Christine was now at Erik, stroking his face. Poppy felt the painful tinge of jealousy.

_"Who was that shape in the shadows?  
Whose is the face in the mask? "_

Just as Christine got to, 'who's face is in the mask'...and reached out to pull off Erik's mask, Poppy let out an almost feline snarl and ran straight for Christine, her red hair flying out behind her. Poppy landed on Christine snarling and growling. Christine let out a yelp. Poppy began screaming at her, taking Erik intended words. Adding a few of her own.

"Damn you!   
You little witch!  
You little demon! God damn you!  
You little lying bitch!  
You little viper!"

On and on Poppy went, screeching out words that shocked even her.

"Poppy?" Both Erik and Christine cried out in shock together.

Poppy didn't answer. She was busy trying to kill Christine. Christine, for a small airhead, was holding her own. She got a few hits in. Erik tried to pull Poppy off of her, but Poppy rounded on him snarling, "_You_ stay out of this!"

Christine might have been done for, if she hadn't knocked Poppy's glasses off. Both girls froze. Poppy, from having her eyes uncovered, Christine, from staring up into deeply scared eyes. Poppy and Christine let of gasps. Christine shrank away from Poppy, as Poppy shoved her away. Christine ran to her room, as Poppy scrambled up and tried to do the same, when Erik grabbed her.

"What the hell, were you doing!" Erik roared, spinning her around. "You had no-" Erik froze as he saw her face fully. Deep, pale purple and red scars covered her upper face around her eyes. White eyes stared blindly back at him. There was no indentation of pupils or irises. Her eyes were flat and white. The eyes themselves had scars.

"Poppy -"

She faced him fully. Anger radiated off of her. "See me! See what I also have to put up with! Yes, I'm ugly. I too wear a mask. This is also why my family no longer even cared for me! I was too ugly in their perfect world."

"Yes, I see, but why did you attack Christine?"

"You was too blind to see as to what she was about to do. She was going to pull your mask off." Poppy snarled.

Anger crossed though Erik. That was way she had been caressing his face. So that she could pull his mask off. Only he was too blind with love, that he didn't heed the danger. "Poppy I am truly sorry." He hastily started to place a hand on her cheek. Poppy reached out and took it, and finished placing his hand on her cheek. Heat sheared though her, as she closed her useless eyes and leaned into his hand. They were like that for several minuets, until Poppy opened her eyes. Should she dare? She really want to- no. Needed to. She let go of his hand. Erik kept it there for a few seconds more, before he let it fall away. He stared down at her. Poppy walked up closer to him and placed both her hands up on his face, one on his velvety soft skin that was on his left cheek; the other on his hard leather mask. Erik pulled away lightly, but Poppy whispered, "No."

Erik felt his heart beat jump as he whispered, "What are you doing?"

Poppy smiled, "Just one of the 'people lessons.' How to kiss." With that, she brought her lips to his own.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter **18**

It was not a hard kiss, nor a passionate kiss. It was just a lip on lips kiss. Or at least that's how it started. Erik turned it in to so much more. Poppy of course, couldn't resist kissing back as hard. Erik pulled away same time that Poppy did. They both looked at each other, or well, Erik stared at Poppy shocked, as Poppy stood there, feeling shocked as well. _Well, here comes the awkward part._ Poppy thought. She wasn't disappointed.

"Poppy-"

She shook her head, "No words right now. I believe that it will confuse us even more."

Erik nodded relived. He had no idea as to what happened. He did, but why? It was his first kiss. And he couldn't help but feel like a different man. When he focused his thoughts, Erik saw Poppy walking in a daze to her room. He let her go. He'll talk to her latter. Instead he went to Christine's room, to see how his little diva was. Erik knocked on the door. Christine peeked out, saw it was him, opened the door wider.

"Oh, Angel. Why did she do a thing like that? And why is Poppy down here? How does she know you?"

Erik ignored her questions, "You was going to take my mask off?" Anger radiated off of him. Christine shrank back. "Never touch my mask. It doesn't concern you. As for Poppy, she's a...guest as you are."

Christine opened her mouth, but could find nothing to say. She ended up nodding.

"Good. Now come, we must return-those two idiots who run my theater will be missing you."

Christine nodded eagerly. Happy to be getting out of the hellhole that God and this...man had stuck her in.

Erik held out his hand, but Christine ignored it. He let out a small sigh and led her up to the dark hallways of the Opera house. Nether said a word. Erik stops at the top of a staircase. Mme. Giry was passing below, locking the doors to the dormitory. She looked up and saw Erik and Christine silhouetted by the moon. Christine walked down towards her and collapses into her arms. Mme. Giry looked up at Erik. He stares back, daring her to say anything. Mme. Giry looked away and sighed. When she looked back again, he was gone. As Mme. Giry led Christine away she were unaware of Buquet, the nasty, sceneshifter watching them. And Buquet himself were unaware of Erik watching him.

XxX

Back in her room, Poppy was trying to sort out her feelings and emotions before Erik came back. She tried to figure out want made her kiss him. Of course she had always wanted to kiss him. Who want not? But at that moment? Poppy picked up a pillow and threw it. Damn hormones! She sat down on the bed. Now what happens? She tried to remember what happened in the movie. After Erik returns the twerp, he'll send a bunch of notes. Notes! That's it! Poppy hurried to his stationary. She felt around for paper and every thing she needed. Concentrating hard, Poppy wrote down a sloppy note. She then sealed it with his red seal, burning herself in the process. But she grinned and bared it. She slid the letter into her corset. Poppy then ran up the tunnel. She hurried to the dorms and ran right into someone.

"Poppy! What are you doing?"

Madame Giry.

"I'm...running an errand."

"Child, is something the matter? You look all flushed and..."

"Flushed?"

"Never mind," her voice dropped," Do you know what happened to Christine? She looks and acts strange. Did Erik do anything to her? Hit her? She has a few bruises."

Poppy smirked," No, he didn't touch her. She tried to lift his mask, and I got all over- protective. I hit her."

Mme.Giry gasped, "You hit her!"

Poppy nodded. "Yes, I hit her. If you tell me, she needs to be hit more often."

"Poppy, I don't know how you are so... free spoken."

Poppy started to walk away, "I have always been this way. Now I have a lot things to do, so if you excuse me, I'll be going." She disappeared around the corner, leaving Mme. Giry shaking her head.

Poppy walked to the manger's office. She listened closely if anyone was around. There was no one, so she slipped inside. She placed the letter on the manger's desk, and slipped out again. Feeling mighty proud of herself she didn't pay any attention as to where she was headed. Again she ran into someone.

"_Hello there. I was wondering when I'd meet you again_."

Great. Raoul.

Poppy smiled falsely at him, her being as tall as he, _"I wasn't_."

He didn't catch it.

She sighed. Idiot. "_Did you enjoy the opera last night?"_

_"Non. I had other business to attend to."_

Poppy froze. Didn't attend the opera? Then he didn't..."_Excuse me, but, did you meet the new diva?"_

"_No. Had not the pleasure_."

Poppy's mind began racing, "_Would you like to met her? She's really nice." _What a lie.

Raoul thought for a minuet, "_Why not. I'll love to meet your friend_." He went on as her followed her.

Poppy held back a snort. "Yeah, sure." She mumbled in English.

She led him though the hallways. She felt uncomfortable having Raoul follow her, so she was relived when they arrived to Christine's dressing room. Poppy turned to Raoul. "Wait here." With that she knocked on the door.

Christine's tired voice called out. "_Who is it_?"

Poppy grimaced, but in a false sweet voice answered, "It's me, Poppy. Can we talk?"

"_Poppy? Yes, let's talk. Come in."_

Poppy waved to Raoul to tell him wait a minuet. She then went in. Poppy tried not to make a face at the chocking smell of lilies. A sound from a corner, called Poppy's attention.

"_Poppy, how do you know **Him**?"_

Still didn't know his name. Well, she didn't deserve to know it. "He's a dear... friend of mine. He allows me to stay with him. But, enough about that. I met an old frie-someone you must meet."

Poppy walked to the door and opened it, "Ok come in." She stood back. "Christine, meet Raoul de Chagny. De Chagny, met Christine Daae, our...diva."

Shock sounded in Raoul's voice, "Christine?" he let out small laugh," _Little Lotte let her mind wander..."_

"Huh?..."

Idiot.

"_Little Lotte thought: am I fonder of dolls...or of goblins...or shoes_..."

"_I remember...you was the little boy that saved my scarf..._."

Poppy heard them hug, and felt like gagging, but was proud of herself. She slipped out the door, leaving them alone. Once out in the hall, Poppy let out a giggle. It was cut off when she felt some one grab her. She let out a squeal of fright.

"I thought you was to help get Christine to love me, not make it worse by interduceting that...fop to her," an angry voice hissed.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter **19**

Again Poppy was pulled along. _This is getting old_, she thought. But she dared not say anything. Erik was in one of his moods as was she so if they didn't want two bodies in the cellars; she decided to keep her mouth shut.

"I thought you was to help get Christine to love me, not make it worse by introducing that...fop to her," Erik snapped again.

They had arrived back in the lair. He let go of her, but stood in front of her. "You were supposed to help keep him away from her. Give her a chance to fall in love with me."

"A chance!" Poppy shrieked, "A chance? She had a chance. For the seven years you taught her never once did she ask your name or anything at all? No! No matter how hard I try, no matter what I will, could, or would do, will she ever love you. I _know_ her kind. They look innocent and sweet, but under that mask is a spoiled, selfish, needy little girl. "People lesson" number 2! Everyone wears masks, not just you! This whole thing is a play that is to run its course. Raoul _has_ to met her."

Erik was shocked. Of course she had yelled at him before, but right now, it was worse. Plus something was wrong with Poppy. She looked too pale. Before he could stop himself he snapped right back, "Run its course? Not mess to plot up? I'm afraid _my dear_, you messed the plot up when you showed up."

Something snapped inside of Poppy. She whipped her glasses off, showing her scars. She threw them down onto the stone ground. The dark lenses popped out. Poppy's white eyes actually darkened. She walked up to him, anger radiating off of her.

Erik, in his life has never been afraid of anything, much less a woman. But now with this tall red headed young woman advancing upon him, he backed up.

Poppy heard him back up, so she followed. A few minutes latter, she had him pinned against his organ. She heard his breathing. It was ragged, and strained. There was fear, but also confusion. She knew she had act quickly. He was not one to be dominated. She took a deep breath, before she lost her nerve. Taking his left hand, she place it on her cheek then glided it up to her eyes, so that his hand rested on her scars. Then before he could say anything or do anything, she took off his mask. She did in one smooth movement; all Erik could do was stand in shock. Poppy dropped the porcelain, and placed her hand on _his_ face.

Poppy closed her eyes, as she let her hand softly trace his deformed cheek. It didn't feel ugly or gross. Only rough. Her fingers gently traced his scarring and deep grooves and ridges in his skin. He had flinched, but surprisingly relaxed into her touch. "Erik, whether or not you believe me, we are the same. We both want love. We both love someone that will never love us back. We both are scared physically and…mentally." She let out a soft sigh and pulled her hand away. Erik did the same, but not at the same time.

"You didn't flinch. You didn't shudder at my touch and my face," Erik's voice sound shocked, then grew hard," Why?"

"Erik, even if I can't see you with my eyes, it doesn't mean I can't truly see you. Yes, you are scarred, but it is only flesh. I see you as the person you truly are…"

"A monster," Erik interrupted bitterly.

Poppy shook her head, "Only your actions make you one. No, I see a lonely man that has been deprived of love and only wants love."

Erik gently pushed her away, "No."

Poppy allowed him to do so, "Erik, I'm to tell you this because her kind will never love you. They are the kind who is after looks. So-called perfection. I know it sounds like I don't want you to be happy. But that's wrong, I only want you to be happy, and Lord, I'm sounding like a Mary-Sue. But, ether way, apparently, you need to find out for yourself. So, I quit." Poppy threw her hands up. "I quit." She began to walk away, Erik made to stop her, but she turned and stopped him. "Don't. If you think I'm going because of your 'face', I'm not. You need to learn this lesson on your own. I'll tell you this: love does hurt, you may feel like you are dieing, but you won't. It will heal." With that she turned, and ran up the tunnel, leaving Erik dumbfound and speechless like when they first met. He bent and picked up his mask. Placing it back on his face, he ran after Poppy.

XxX

Poppy was laying face down, crying, on her new bed in the ballet dorms. Mme. Giry had taken one look at her and knew what was wrong. She'd seen many broken hearts in her lifetime. With out a word, she had led Poppy to the dorms to get her settled. All the Rats were gone, so she had the huge room to herself.

"Mme. Giry, why does it hurt so? I know that it's next to impossible to get him to love me, when he's loved Christine for so long."

Madame Giry patted her back, "Don't know Cherie, but you must know that for all his life he has never felt love, never had someone to love him. And now has two women in his life. One who he has loved since she arrived seven years ago. And one who loves him, but knows nothing of it."

Poppy stopped crying, "What should I do? Should I tell him? Or let him find out for himself?"

"Do what's in your heart."

"Mme. Giry?" Poppy sat up, "I do love him."

XxX

From his hiding place in the wall, Erik heard every word said. She loves me? How is that possible? His mind raced as he wondered behind the walls. His mind was still trying to sort out his thoughts and feelings, when he heard Firmin yelling.

"_Mystery after gala night," it says, "Mystery of soprano's flight! Mystified all the papers say, we are mystified -we suspect foul play!" Bad news on soprano scene-first Carlotta, now Christine! Still at least the seats get sold-gossip's worth its weight in gold…" _

Erik smirked and stopped to listen. The thing with Poppy will have to wait……

XxX


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter **20**

Just as Firmin finished reading the paper, Andre came out from his office. He was red faced and yelling, _"Dammable! Will they all walk out! This is damnable!"_

Firmin shook his head, "André! Please don't shout! We can use this to our advantage. Gossip is what people want, and we have it in plenty!"

"But…we have no cast!"

"Have you seen the queue?"

They marched into the Grand Foyer. Andre opened his letter.

"_Dear Andre, what a charming gala! Christine was in a word, sublime. We were hardly bereft when Carlotta left-one that note the diva's a disaster, must you cast her when she's seasons past her prime?"_

Erik moved out from behind the wall so that he could watch them. As he watched, Firmin was starting to open his. He reads out:

"_Dear Firmin, just a quick reminder: my salary has not been paid. Send it care of the ghost, by return of post-PTO no one likes a debtor, so it's better if my orders are obeyed!"_

Firmin tried to calm Andre, for he was starting to bellow once more. André turned to Firmin, _"_Who would have the gall to send this?"

Erik hid the smirk. He does.

Firmin shook his head, "I don't know, but someone with a puerile brain!"

Erik raised his eyebrow. Puerile? Hmmm…

André studied the notes, "It says here, O.G."

"Who the hell is he?"

Andre thought for a minute, "Opera Ghost!"

They began to head to their offices when Raoul burst in. Erik's eyes narrowed. Damn him! Oh, he is harmless still in this little game. But…Erik had read Poppy's book closely. The boy is admirably stubborn. If he continues to see Christine, all will be lost.

"Bonjour, Viscomte! What came we do for you?" Firmin sucked up.

"Where is she?"

Andre brow furrowed, "Who? Carlotta?"

Erik made a slight face.

"No. Miss O'Collen, and Christine Daae."

Erik blinked. Was he hearing right? Did he just ask for Poppy? In a way he was glad, but another part him dreaded it. Jealousy rose. He swallowed the bitter taste down.

"You don't know were they are then?"

Firmin and Andre both shook their heads.

They were just about to go into the offices when Carlotta came storming in followed by her group. She heads up the staircase. She also has a letter.

She begins to yell. She waves the note. "I have here a note. I know not were came from, but I don't like it."

Both the mangers try to slip away, as Raoul reads the note. "Your days at the Opera Populaire are over. Christine Daae will be singing in your place from here on out. Be prepared for a great misfortune, should you try to take her place."

Erik rolled his eyes as she began to stomp.

The mangers are beginning to tire of the intrigue. They began to escort Carlotta up the staircase. Everyone follows.

"We don't take orders from 'ghosts.' We are the mangers. Not this…O.G." Firmin snobbishly tells her.

They round the corner and run straight into Mme. Giry and her daughter, Meg.

"Miss Daae and O'Collen have both retuned."

Firmin raises his eyebrow, "They _both_ were gone?"

Mme. Giry started to answer when Raoul intermittent.

"Can I see them?"

"No monsieur. They need rest. Had a hard night."

All give strange looks.

Carlotta was the first to break the silence, " Will she sing?"

Mme. Giry just shakes her head. "Here, I have a note."

They all groaned as Erik hid a smirk. He sure were getting to them.

They all took the note into Firmin's office. Five minutes latter they came out Carlotta came out yelling, "First I am replaced by some blind foreigner Rat, then by this…this…nobody! I am the true diva!"

Erik's lip curled in disgust as Firmin and Andre began sucking up to her. Finally over the yelling, Firmin yells, "Miss Daae will be playing the pageboy- the silent role…"

"Carlotta will be playing the lead!" Andre added, catching on.

Erik snarled. Things are not going his way. He slipped off to his now empty lair, to try to think of a way of getting them to see it 'his' way.

XxX

An hour latter, Erik finished throwing items around. He looked around his trashed lair and sighed. His temper had taken a hold of him again. This will be the third time this month that he will have to clean the broken items up. He remembered the first time Poppy had seen his full-unleashed anger. She had stood, leaning against the doorframe to him rage, a slight smirk on her face. That had made Erik even madder. He started yelling at her. She didn't even wince. After he was done all she said was 'feel better?'

Then proceeded to tell him that she was not cleaning it up. He was the one that made the mess. She didn't put up with his fits. She said that he needed to rein control over it. Of course the next day she matched his temper. She had gotten flustered over something and started yelling and punching the pillows. Erik had gone to see what was the matter. She was in her room punching the pillow, throwing them down, everything. She would room about the room, her red hair flying out behind her. When Erik asked her what the matter was, she dropped the pillow, and turned and grinned sheepishly at him.

Erik shook his head. No, he tried to convince himself, he did not miss her. He loved Christine. Not Poppy. Christine. Christine. Not…Poppy. Erik let out a growl. Damn! He did miss her. And she had only been gone half a day!

Erik set down on the couch, and placed his head in his hands, "What am I going to do?"

"You can try talking to them."


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Erik turned to see an irritated Ballet Mistress. She stood in the doorway, tall and imposing in her black dress. Her gray eyes glared at him. "Really, Erik. How can you be so…blind? Poppy sees better then you."

Erik stood and walked over to glare at her. Mme. Giry didn't flinch. "What am I to do? She's in love with the romance of a story. Not me. She may say that she loves me, but it is only the infatuation of a young girl."

At her confused look he preceded to tell her the truth about Poppy. Mme. Giry said not a word. After Erik was though, she nodded. "It sounds impossible, but it would explain everything. And you say you read this so called book that is about you?"

Erik nodded, "Yes, I did. I am planning on changing it."

Mme. Giry shook her head, "But Erik, what if Christine doesn't love you?"

"I'll make her!" Erik shouted.

"You can't make some one love. It is wrong and it will be a lie."

"Ah, but I can," Erik purred, trying to wave a spell over her.

For a minute, it worked. Mme. Giry closed her eyes, falling in to the mesmerizing sound. But, she then snapped her eyes open, with a slight snarl, she stepped back. "Stop it Erik! I know your trick! It won't work."

Erik sighed, feeling slightly guilty, "I'm sorry, Antoinette. I'm just…"

Mme. Giry placed a hand on his shoulder, "Talk to them. You'll find out more that way. Don't let your temper get in the way. There are other ways of winning one's heart. I must go. As you may know they are performing "_Il Muto_" with Carlotta as the Countess." Mme. Giry began to head up the path she normally uses. She stops and looks over her shoulder, "Erik, Poppy does love you with all her heart. Christine may be more beautiful and more musically cline, but Poppy is strong. She's able to put up with you, fight back. You have always enjoyed a challenge, taming her will be." With that Mme. Giry walked up the tunnel.

Erik stared at her. His old friend was right. He needed to find out if Christine really loved him. He prepared to put his plan in action. But first…he had to take care of some disobedient mangers.

After he left, an annoyed sigh echoed though the lair…

XxX

Poppy stood back stage. Mme. Giry was not making her dance, but Poppy wanted to listen to the music. All day she tried not to think about Erik. Yes, she loved him, but he didn't love her. She had been resigned to try once more to get Christine to love Erik, but a few hours earlier she had came across Christine and Raoul playing tonsil hockey in the foyer. Of course she didn't see them; the sound was enough. She had heard Raoul moan Christine's name. Poppy gagged quietly then hurried away, thankful that she couldn't see for the first time since she became blind. It was then; she decided to take some matters into her hands. She'll try to get Erik to see that Christine was not the one for him, that there are better women out there. Ones that will love him. Even though he had one right under his nose.

Poppy sighed. She walked to where Carlotta kept her throat spray. She picked it up and quickly tied a note to it. She had scribbled a small message to Erik on it. She knew he'd switch it. Poppy only hoped that he'd see the note and read it. She walked back to her place. The performers were waiting for the opera to begin. Meanwhile, in the wings, where Poppy just was, Erik's hand reaches out. Unseen by all, he swaps Carlotta's throat spray with an identical crystal flask. Just as it retreats, the overture began.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter **22**

As the opera progressed, nothing happened. The opera was one about adultery with humor. Poppy didn't think it was very funny, of course she wasn't thinking about the opera. Her mind was on Erik. He hasn't shown up yet, and she wondered whither or not he would come. She sighed and turned away. She began walking around. Poppy walked until she was under the flies. She stopped to listen, wincing as Carlotta hit a sharp note. Erik had better hurry up, before she goes deaf as well. Poppy didn't hear anything, so she moved on, not noticing two eyes following her.

XxX

Erik had thought out his plan carefully, but now he was wondering whether to carry on with it. He had read Poppy's note. It only saying that "_we need to talk_" written messily. Almost like his own. He sighed, and placed the note back in his pocket. Too late now. He had already swiped Carlotta's throat spray. He went to his box, only to find that it was taken. And not by anyone, but by Raoul de Chagny. Erik gritted his teeth in rage. If it had been anyone else, he simply would've spooked them. But this was different. Well, he will carry though with his plan.

Erik carefully made his way to a catwalk high above the stage. The catwalk ran along the top of the proscenium arch. He stood there for a moment, then threw his voice so that it came from everywhere, not just from were he was.

"_Did I not instruct that Box Five was to be kept empty?"_

A slight smirk crossed his lips, as there was the general reaction of bewilderment. Everyone stopped and looked around.

XxX

Back in the wings, Poppy heard Erik's voice, but she was too busy trying to run from the one following her. He apparently knew that she was blind, and was using that to his advantage. He played her like cat and mouse. Poppy had become panicked and got turned around, so she knew not where to go. He kept herding her to where he wanted her. Finally she came across a staircase. She began climbing up it. Poppy then heard a sinister chuckle. She then knew how it was. Joseph Buquet. And Poppy now knew why he laughed. She was now in his element. And she blind. _Stupid! Stupid, girl!_ She thought to herself. She shot forward, as she heard Erik's laughter rise and Buquet come up behind her. Poppy tucked herself in a corner, out of sight of Buquet. She tries to catch her breath. She let out a small sob, but quickly swallows it back. She began to listen as to what was going on. Poppy heard Andre stammer.

"_Er maestro…. the the the ballet-bring it forward please." _

She then heard the stage being cleared. Music begins. Poppy let out a small sigh and craws out from her hiding place. She hated running, but he had her at a disadvantage. She couldn't see were she was going. She slowly walked along the ramp. She knew that if she fell, she could end up breaking her neck. She was up that high. Poppy felt someone grab her hair. She lets out a gasp, as she was pulled backward into a smelly chest. "Let go of me!" She snarled in English.

Buquet replied, but Poppy didn't understand it. She twisted, and punched him in the face. Buquet let out a cry of pain and called her one word she did recognize. She then kicked him and took of, running.

XxX

Erik was watching the ballet, feeling smug when he noticed that Meg Giry kept looking up, thus falling out of step. Something was going on up in the flies. Erik disappeared. When he arrived up in the flies, he saw Poppy running, and stumbling along the ramps, Buquet right behind her. Rage coursed though Erik. Poppy stumbles over a rope and fell on to the ramp. Erik began to swing from rope to rope to were Poppy was. He froze at Poppy's next move. She was on her back, Buquet ripping at her clothes. She reached and grabbed the rope that she tripped over. Poppy pushed Buquet's head up and wrapped the rope around his neck. She then brought her legs up, placing her feet into his stomach and pushed him up. He stumbled and tripped. Buquet plummeted over the side. The rope caught him by the neck, snapping it. The crack echoed though the room, over the music.

Poppy stood up, holding her dress in the front. Erik dropped onto the ramp with her. "Poppy."

She tuned to face him. Her white eyes flat and cold, ruby red hair hung lose, looking like an avenging angel, or demon. Without blinking, she pointed downward. "Your angel is running up to the roof," she spat the word 'angel'," Catch her before Raoul comes along." With that she turned and walked off, headless of the screaming below.

XxX


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter **23**

Erik was torn between running after her and following Christine. He started after her but then stopped. He looked down and saw Christine running to the staircase to the roof. He looked back at Poppy, but she had disappeared. "Merde" He snarled. He grabbed a hold of a rope and disappeared up it.

Christine, the dimwitted twit she was, was running though the backstage. She believed that her 'false' angel had killed the crude man. She ran up a spiraling staircase, which leads vertiginously out on to the roof. She emerged out on to the roof. A huge statue of "La Victoire Ailee", vast gargoyles dominate and look out over a surreal panorama of Paris. She stopped to catch her breath. Her eye was still hurting from where the blind girl had hit her. She didn't know why Poppy was so protective of him. Christine didn't love him. She loved Raoul. The sweet, charming—rich man that he was. And why was Poppy down there? She was perhaps his mistress. No man would want her. She was ugly. Those scars…and disturbing white eyes…. Christine shuddered.

Suddenly she heard a soft sound.

"_Wandering child…so lost… so helpless…yearning for my guidance…"_

Bewildered, she looked up. Christine looked around, but saw nothing. She mutters. _"Who is there staring ….?"_

"_Have you forgotten your angel…? To long you've wondered in winder…."_

He appeared from behind a statue. Christine's eyes went wide. She began walking towards him as he did the same. She stared up at him and him down at her. She places a hand on his chest. Again Erik foolishly drops his defenses.

Christine saw him close his eyes. Now that Poppy was not there, she will be able to see under the mask. She massages his chest, with both of her hands. She allowed a slight smile came across her lips. She rubbed upward as it began to snow. The white flakes landing on his black cloak and hair. Christine stepped up closer so that her hands could reach his shoulders. She rubbed them; suddenly she pulled the mask off.

Erik had been thrilling to her touch, but Poppy's pretty face kept replacing Christine's. He finally pushed the image back when he felt cold air on his right cheek. He opened his eyes and saw Christine standing in front of him holding his mask. With a demented cry he pushed her away. Her face was nothing but a face of horror and utter disbelief. Erik advanced on her, yelling.

"Damn you! You little prying Pandora! You little demon—" He stopped. Those were almost the same words that Poppy had said. He stared at her. Her face was still distorted with fear. He reached out for the mask. Christine flinched, but handed it back to him.

"Christine—"

She flinched again. Poppy was right. Christine was only…he was interrupted when he heard Raoul's voice.

"Christine?"

Erik let out a small snarl and quickly disappeared around a statue.

As soon as the monster was gone from her sight, Christine could breathe again. She heard his fading footsteps. Oh the horror of his face! It was terrible! Suddenly, she heard Raoul calling for her.

"Raoul!"

He came staggering though the door. Christine ran to him. "Oh Raoul!"

He held her tight. "Christine, I love you."

"And I you."

Raoul kissed her lightly, "Christine, will you marry me? You will never have to worry about anything ever again. Oh Christine say you'll marry me!"

It was her chance, "Yes! Yes, I will love to be your wife! Say you love me every waking moment…"

Raoul held her tight, "I will…"

They kissed.

Christine had thought Erik had left, but he hadn't live in the Opera house for so long that he hadn't learned some tricks. She had heard fading footsteps but he was hidden, listening and watching. Finally he couldn't take it anymore. He had to leave. His heart breaking he went down to his lair, suddenly remembering Poppy and what had happened to her and what she had done, he forgot about Christine and Raoul at the moment.


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter **24**

When he got to his lair he saw that Antoinette was reassuring Poppy. She was crying faintly. When Erik walked into the room, Antoinette shot a fierce look to Erik. She whispered to Poppy. She nodded. Poppy sat down on the couch. She placed her head in her hands.

Mme. Giry walked over to Erik. She glared up at him. "I hope you're content!" She hissed quietly. "Poppy is in shock. She's strong, but she's should not to have to do what she had to do. Lord, she's only 19. I want you to stop chasing Christine and start opening your eyes!" She looked back at Poppy, concern in her eyes, then back Erik, "I have to go. Talk to her."

After a last glare to him, Giry let Erik turned to Poppy. She was still on the couch, head in her hands crying slightly. He walked over to her and after a tentative moment, sat down next to her. "Poppy?"

She brought her head up, "Erik? I—I didn't mean to kill him! But he was trying to hurt me! So—it was self-defense, wasn't it?" She turned to face him. Her white eyes full of tears.

He didn't know what compelled him, but without a word he gathered her in his arms, holding her tight and close. "It is fine. You did no wrong. You were defending yourself. And with him gone, you have helped protect many other girls. But it is all right to cry. So go on and cry." He soothed her.

Poppy relaxed into his arms. It felt good to be there. Her parents never hugged, kissed or loved her. Even if Erik didn't love her, it still felt good to lean on someone for a change. She nuzzled closer to him, and slowly fell asleep.

Erik knew when she fell asleep. Her haggard breathing slowed down. He continued to hold her. As he did, he studied her features. Her white eyes were closed. Her pale face relaxed. She was truly beautiful. Not in the way Christine was. But, Poppy held her own. Erik brushed a few strands of ruby hair out of her face. Gently, he picked her up and carried her to her bedroom. He placed her down on the comforter and covered her up. He was tempted to kiss her, but quickly dismissed it. Ayesha jumped up on the bed and curled up on Poppy's chest, glaring up at him with her crossed blue eyes. He reached out to remove her, when her eyes narrowed even more and quietly hissed. Erik was taken back. "So, you are mad at me as well, mon chaton." She only glared up at him. He sighed and left the room, closing the door quietly. Erik walked out into the main room.

"So how's it feel to have even your beloved cat hate you at the moment?"


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter **25**

Erik jumped. Fury welled up in him. He turned to the couch. There on the couch, was a girl. Or more like a young woman. She was wearing even stranger clothes then Poppy wore when he first met her. They were black and red. A red top and black pants that flared out at the bottom. A sliver rose necklace and silver hoop earrings glinted in the candlelight. She looked up at him with a cynical smirk on her lips. Her arms were linked behind her head.

"Who are you? And what are you doing here?"

She raised a dark eyebrow; "That was really cliché. And yell all you like, it won't faze me" She stood and stretched; all of her 5 feet glory. She winced and lightly touched her right side. "Still tender," came a mutter. She walked over to a wall and inspected it closely. "Hmm, limestone…thought it would be granite…ah well." She straightened up, tossing her shoulder length chocolate brown and red striped hair out of her brown eyes. "As to answering your questions…I am Sarah. Or Des Iries. Or the annoyed Authoress of this story. I prefer Des." At his confused look added, "don't really try to understand, Love. I find it really confusing to try to type anyway. Ok. What the hell is your problem? I have sworn never to put myself in my stories, and yet I'm here…can you tell me why Erik?" She didn't let him answer. She walked up to him and glared up at him. "I'll tell you! You have an issue. Yes, I understand you have "loved" Christine for, what seven years? That it will be hard to just fall out of love with her like," she snapped her fingers, "that, and fall in love with another. But you have to ask yourself—do you really _love_ Christine, or is she just an obsession? Poppy really loves you. You _need _love, she _needs_ love, and I _need sleep! _It's 4:00 in the freakin' morning! I've been up since 6! But," Des shook her head, "don't worry about me." Des wandered up to the organ and stared up at the ceiling, Erik following, " Nice. Love the cut of the stone." Her eyes went back to Erik. "Oh, one last thing. I'm sure Poppy explained it to you, where you are being such an ass, many loyal phans want to slap you. So shape up. You are supposed to be a genius, so think!" Des glanced at her watch, "look at that! It's all so late!" She grabbed his hand, gave it a quick kiss "I have to go. I hope I will not have to be back? I hate putting myself in my stories. And not many readers like it! Because, even though I don't have a cheesegrater like Silvermasque, I do have doc martens. Big black ones. 'K?"

Erik could only nod.

Des smiled and tipped her head quickly, "Wunderbar! Great! Auf Wiedershen!" She waved, hiding a yawn and just disappeared; leaving Erik to stare where she had been standing at. He wondered whether he had finally lost his mind. Well, even if he was, the Des girl was right. He had been an ass. When Poppy wakes up, they are going to have a long talk.


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26 

**Hey there! I had read all the past reviews you all sent…glad to make you all laugh. And I know some of you are wondering and thinking to yourselves "he doesn't even know what doc martins are." Well Erik knows a threat when he hears one. And that _was _one. If he doesn't straighten up, he's going to get his ass stomped on by both of them! Anyway, on with the story!**

XXX

Erik set at the organ wondering if he had lost his mind. That 'visit' by the strange girl unnerved him. He had no idea what the hell was doc martens are, but the way she had mentioned them, he figured that he just might not what to know. He pushed the thought of the girl out of his mind. It would be best to forget her and concentrate on what to do. He repeated the question over in is mind. Do you really _love_ Christine, or is she just an obsession? He thought back. When he first seen her, she was nothing truly special. A small depressed child that just lost her father. The variably of her had touched him, so he had felt pity. He had nothing else to do, but write and compose _Don Juan_. But he could only work on it at times. The score ate at him. So, he watched over her. When she had turned fifteen, she started to show promise in voice. Erik, of course, could not see talent go unseen. Plus, it was at that time Carlotta showed up. Even in the woman's younger years, she couldn't sing. He began teaching Christine. Over the years, he _had_ become obsessed with her. For her to exceed. He had thought when he showed himself to her, that she'd be grateful, and love him. But, Christine was so much like a child. So, _did_ he love her? Erik thought hard. No. No he didn't. He cared for her, which was something entirely different.

Once Erik cleared that up, he had still had another problem. Poppy. He had heard her say that she loved him. He had tried to ignore it. Then Antoinette had said that Poppy loved him, then the strange girl, had said the same thing. So did he love _her_? She matched his temper. He enjoyed arguing with her, when he yelled at her, she would only laugh. He even enjoyed her smart remarks at everything. Yes. He did. He loved her. Erik laughed. He could not wait for her wake up so that he could tell her. He felt like a child at Christmas, who could not wait to open his gifts. Erik began to pace, waiting.

XxX

Poppy woke up feeling better, but bitchy. But she was not in the dorms. She could smell that the air was damper. So where were she? Poppy then remembered. After the almost rape and her killing Buquet she had ran into Mme. Giry. Mme. Giry led her away, Poppy telling her everything. Mme. Giry then told her that the best place for her at the moment was back down in Erik's lair. Poppy nodded, not really caring. Down in his lair, Mme. Giry comforted her. She had felt terrible. Next thing she knew was that Erik was in Mme's place, holding her. Shock and tiredness won out, and she feel asleep in his arms. He must have placed her in bed. She had loved being in his arms, but it was not meant to be. He wanted Christine, not some ugly, blind redhead girl. He wanted, the 'perfect' one. That's how it always is. Well, who is she to stand in the way of love?

Poppy let out a small sob. Huh, what you know? The Phantom of the Opera is capable of breaking hearts. Her heart sure was. She climbed out of bed. Poppy walked to the door, wiping her stinging eyes. Taking a deep breath, her held her head high, and opened the door.

XxX

Erik turned at the sound of the door opening. In the doorway stood Poppy. Her ruby red hair framing her white face. How did he miss it? She was beautiful. "Poppy. Are you alright?"

Her head turned to his voice. Pain passed over her face. "Yes. I'm fine. I only killed a man yesterday, so yes, I'm all hunky dory," she snapped. "Now, if you would excuse me, I'll leave you to your sport: Christine Chasing." She turned to walk out of the lair.

Erik was behind her in a matter of seconds. He grabbed her shoulders and turned her. Poppy allowed him to do so. She stared rebelliously up into his eyes. Her white eyes not seeing, but still showing emotions. The emotions that Erik saw were hate, love, fear and contempt. "Poppy, I'm done with her. She is only a child. She does not love me. So many people have been telling me to open my eyes, so finally I did so. And what do I see? I see a beautiful, talented young woman. The one I love. Not Christine. You."

Poppy was quite for a moment, and then asked, "She turned away did she?"

Erik nodded, "Yes, she did as you said she would. She ripped my mask off. She hated and feared me."

Poppy nodded, hate in her voice, "So now that she's spurn you, you turn to me? Well…think again."

Silence pulsed around, pressing in around them. Erik was shocked, "What?"

Poppy wrenched her shoulders free, "What can't you comprehend?" She hissed, "Are you so stupid with 'love' that you can't understand anything? I'll spell it out for you! I don't love you! I don't want to a leftover! That now, that one has turned you away; you think that I'll come running to your open arms? Well, I won't! _Au revoir Le Fantom!_ With that, she pushed him away and ran out the room and up the tunnel.

Erik stood there shocked. Hated him. She hated him. Suddenly he heard a small echoing cry. Grabbing his lasso, he ran up the same tunnel.


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

XXX

Half way up the tunnel, he saw Poppy on the ground. She was crying. "I'm tired. I'm tired of all of this." She mumbled.

"Poppy? What happened?"

She looked up tears running down her face. "I slipped and fell."

Concern was in Erik's voice as he kneeled beside her, "Are you hurt? Feel any pain?"

Poppy's voice hardened, "No pain but in my heart. Bet you never thought you could break someone's heart did you? Erik, you are acting like a spoiled child. That when you do something wrong it is all right. Some things you do are excusable, but others…are not."

Erik thought about this. He nodded, "You are right. I have been acting as such." He scooped her up, "Now, you need to get off the cold floor before you get sick."

Poppy gasped, "Erik! Put me down!" She pushed at his chest, "Put me down! I'm still mad at you! This is not fair!"

Erik surprised his self and her by chuckling a little. "Now who's being the child?"

Poppy flushed with anger, but fell silent.

Erik walked back to the lair and placed her on the couch. Poppy started to say something, but Erik stopped her. "Stay here. I'll be back in a minute." With that Erik walked into the kitchen.

Poppy huffed and crossed her arms. Ayesha jumped up on the couch with her. "Hey there Ayesha. How are doing?" Ayesha answered her with a meow and a purr. Poppy laughed. She picked Ayesha up and hugged her close. Ayesha closed her eyes and rubbed her head under Poppy's jaw, purring.

Poppy heard Erik come into the room so she put the cat down. "Now can I go?"

"No. Here." Erik handed her a hot mug.

Poppy took it. "Ouch! Damn it Erik! You could have warned me."

"It's hot," Erik smirked.

Poppy tried to glare at him but found she couldn't. She tried to hide her smile. He did just what she had done to him a week earlier. Paybacks are a bitch. She took a sip, and let out a cough and a wince. "What is this?"

Erik looked over at her. She had a disgusted face, he let out another laugh, "It's Russian tea. It has lemon in it. Drink it it's good for you."

Poppy took another sip, and grimaced. Then another. It was not so bad after you got past the essential shock of the bitterness. She had always enjoyed bitter tea. They set quietly for a while until Poppy set the cup down. "Erik?"

Erik had been watching her. Waiting until she made the first move. She was right. He had been acting as a child. He was so used to getting his own way in the Opera house, with Lefever listening to every word and letter he wrote. Whatever she did, he will not lose his temper, nor act like child. Not any more. "Yes?"

"I don't hate you, you know."

Hope flared inside of him.

"But you said—"

Poppy shook her head, "I said a lot of things that I didn't mean. But some were true. It hurts to be a second choice. That I only have a chance to show how much I—one love you only if Christine dished you. Plus, you did expect me to come running happily to you. Am I right? People have feelings Erik. As do you. You may say that you are not like other men. But, look back at your actions. Then at other men. You will see that you are the same. But, what makes you different, is you. No one is the same. The world would be a very boring place if everyone were the same."

Erik sat there stunned. He had never looked at things that way. He had insolated his self from the world, he had traveled, saw the world, but he never really saw it. He smiled, "And how old are you? Not 19. You sound too old to be that age."

Poppy blushed, "I'll be 20 soon."

"Hmm…still not the age you sound." Erik moved from his chair to the couch, beside her. He reached out a long fingered hand to brush a lock of hair out of her face. Her white eyes flashed as she faced him. "Erik."

"Hmm?" he answered, trying to think how she would act if he kissed her.

"I'm still mad at you, so don't try it."

He sighed, "But you don't hate me?"

Poppy laughed a little, "No. Just mad. Should I leave? If I'm not welcome, I'll leave."

"No! Stay as long as you like. You are welcome here. I don't want you to leave."

Poppy smiled. She stood and picked up her backpack that had lain forgotten beside the couch. Suddenly the strap broke, spilling everything in it. Horror flashed across Poppy's face as she fell to her knees to hastily pick everything up. Erik helped too. "No, no, no! I got it! Don't worry about it." Poppy stammered out fearfully. She hoped he didn't find—

"Poppy, what's this?"

It.

Erik held a small vale. It contained a reddish liquid. It looked familiar. Almost like the same concoction he had slipped into Carlotta's throat spray. Way would Poppy have some? "Well?"

"Ahmm…I…it…well…" She swallowed, "that is the same stuff you had put into Carlotta's throat spray. I was going to slip it in to…."

Erik had a feeling as to who it was.

"….Christine's drink." Poppy waited for Erik to start yelling. What he did though surprised her.

Anger flashed though him at first, but as he thought about it was indeed funny. She was so much like him. He threw back his head and had the first good laugh he hadn't had in a long time.


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

Over the next week Erik did no haunting. He stayed in his lair working on _Don Juan_. He wanted it finished. Poppy did go back up to the Opera House though. She joined back up in the line. Mme. Giry had taken one look at how happy Poppy was and let out a sigh of relief. Erik was like a little brother to her. She had taken care of him until he was older. She always worried about him. He was a great man who could do great things. He deserved a special kind of woman. Christine was so much like a child. Poppy was wise beyond her years, yet playful. She kept Erik in check. Erik had told her the truth about Poppy. Her being from the future. It was almost unbelievable. But it also explained everything. As Antoinette watch Poppy dance, Christine came up to her. She watched Christine ask Poppy a question. What ever she said angered Poppy. Poppy slapped her, a red handprint staining Christine's cheek. Christine stood there shocked as Poppy stomped off angrily. Christine walked up to Mme. Giry holding her cheek.

"She dares to do that? All I did was ask her a question." Christine asked.

Mme. Giry looked down at the girl, "What did you ask her? It may have been offensive."

Christine shrugged, "All I asked was if she was perchance _his _mistress?"

"Think girl! Do you really think that? And it is none of your business! You choose the Viscomte did you not?" Mme. Giry inquired, feeling impatient with her.

Christine dropped her eyes and nodded, "Yes. I choose Raoul."

"Well then, Poppy choose Erik, and he choose her. Leave it be." With that Mme. Giry walked away leaving Christine to stare after her.

XxX

That…. bitch! Poppy marched angrily though the back halls. The impudence of that stupid brat! Asking that. If she was Erik's mistress! Poppy had blushed then flushed in anger. What brought that on for her to ask that? Properly her staying with him. As Poppy walked past the Rats dorms she heard them talking.

"I can not wait! The Parisian Valentine's Masque is soon!"

"Yes! All the most eligible bachelors will be there. The crème de la crème!"

Poppy paused. A ball? She walked on, the voices of the Rats fading

_I thought it was a New Years ball. Oh. I forgot. My being here, made everything happen sooner_. Poppy thought. She shook her head. Now that Erik is slowly forgetting about Christine, he more then likely won't go. She didn't care if she went or not. Made no difference to her.

Ten minutes latter she walked into the lair. For once it was quite. Erik had been working almost non-stop. It had sounded like to Poppy something like 'Point of No Return.' But also something totally different. She tried her best to ignore it. It was hard. The music it's self was seductive. She would ended up slinking to her room with the CD player and tried to drown out the music by placing the headphones over her ears and blaring her kind of music. Safe music.

"Erik?"

No answer. Perhaps he was a sleep. She hoped so. He may not need much sleep, but he did need some. She sighed, and went to walk to her room.

"Poppy? Wait a minute." Erik's voice came out from nowhere.

Poppy let out a small shriek, and spun in the direction of his voice. "Damn it Erik!"

Erik let out a chuckle "I apologize."

Poppy huffed, "Sure you are. You enjoy doing that." she heard him walk up closer to her. He stopped in front of her.

"It does brighten my day." He smirked. Erik then took her hand and placed it on his arm. "Tell me. What do you think?"

Poppy ran her fingers up his arm. It was much softer then the normal shirt he wears. Like velvet. "Erik…tell me…what color is it?" She had a feeling that it was red.

"It's red."

Poppy cocked her head, "And pray tell me, why?"

Erik simply answered, "Because we are going to The Parisian Valentine's Masque."


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

XxX

"What?"

"We are going. I have something to give the mangers. They have been slacking. It's time to—"

Poppy grinned, "Scare the bee gees out of the Opera's company?"

"In a manner of speaking—yes."

Poppy sniggered, but then thought of something. "Erik, I heard the Rats say that the Masque is soon. How soon is soon?"

"I thought you had paid attention to the activities up there?"

"I close my ears to the endless chattering of the girls. You head them: it's enough to give one a headache. Plus, I hurry up so I can come right back down here."

"With me," Erik purposely baiting a trap.

Poppy let out a half laugh and half disgusted sigh. She pushed him back, "No, you pretentious male… Ayesha. Speaking of which…" She turned like she was going to call her.

Erik let out a small growl and grabbed her, "You are teasing."

Poppy smirked, "I am? I didn't know I was. So when is it?"

"February 14th. Tomorrow night."

Poppy grew still. She forgot. Of all things.

Erik saw her go still. "What's wrong?"

She let out a giggle. "I forgot my birthday. How do you like that?"

"Your birthday is tomorrow? You will be 20?"

"Yep," Poppy finally succeeded in pushing Erik away. "Go change. I'm sure that it must be hot. Plus I best scrape a dress up if I'm to go." She walked in to her room to try to think of how she was going to get a dress together within 24 hours.

XxX

She was to be 20? Still so young. Erik contemplated for a minute. Soon an idea came to him. Nodding to his self, he strolled out of the room.

XxX

Late that night Poppy stuck her head out her door, listening for Erik. There was no sound, so she slipped out the tunnel, up to Mme.Giry's room. Thankfully the Ballet Mistress stayed up late. Poppy had turned her sinkin' room upside down looking and trying to think of a good Masquerade costume. She had no idea what to expect, she couldn't ask Erik. He more then likely didn't know ether.

Poppy paused outside Mme.Giry's door. She raised her hand to knock, when the door opened.

Mme. Giry let out a small gasp at seeing Poppy there. "Poppy? Is anything the matter?"

Poppy shook her head, "Everything's fine. I hope that I'm not…it's just that I have a small problem," Poppy paused, "I need some help. I forgot that the Masque is tomorrow and that…if it's too much trouble I'll think of something else."

Mme. Giry smiled, "No dear, it's not too much trouble. You can borrow a dress from the costume room. Come I'll help you."

Relief flooded Poppy, "Thank you so much."

An hour latter they found a dress that suited Poppy. Poppy held the dress out, she grinned, "This will knock Erik out won't it? If he can be shocking…well, for once I can be as well."

Mme. Giry smiled shaking her head. Erik sure has a hand full. Poppy sure had a mind of her own.


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30

XxX

The night of the Masquerade was clear and…cold. If it was cold, so were Erik's lair. Poppy stood shivering in her room. She was already dressed, with help from Mme. Giry. She had not heard from Erik all day. Probably for the best. She didn't want to him to see her just yet. For the first time in ten years, she felt beautiful, not like the scarred bitter girl that she normally was. As Poppy tugged nervously on her hair, the huge clock up in the Opera House chimed 9 clock. TheMasquerade has started. Time to go. Poppy swallowed, picked up her skirt and began the long trek up the tunnel that she uses. Mme Giry met her at the hidden entrance.

"Ready Poppy?"

Poppy thought for a minute, and then simply answered, "No," She turned to walk back down the tunnel.

Mme. Giry grabbed her arm, "Come on. It's only a Masque. It—you will be fine." Mme. Giry pulled her along to the Grand Foyer, where the Masque was talking place. "I talked to Erik earlier today. He expects you there. So stop struggling, and come on."

Poppy let out a sigh and stopped trying to pull her arm away so that she could run back to the lair. As they got closer, Poppy heard the music. Her mouth went dry.

Mme. Giry watched Poppy. The girl was terrified, which was a change. Poppy never showed fear. Antoinette sighed and pushed Poppy though the doors.

Poppy stumbled into the room. The Masquerade was in full swing. The beautiful music was playing loud and clear. She straightened up and walked to the side of the room. For the next half hour she fidgeted. Suddenly some man, asking her to dance, approached her. At first, Poppy thought to decline, but changed her mind. It was her birthday. Might as well have soon fun. She nodded, and was swept out onto the dance floor. She was awkward at first, but soon flowed into the step of the dance. It was the fist time she was glad that her parents had made her take those 'stupid' ballroom dance lessons.

Soon she was laughing as she danced. She was twirled around the dance floor, being passed back and forth. Normally, she would have hated it, but she was caught up in the music and the sheer fun of it. Soon she was passed again in to the arms of another man.

XxX

Erik was watching the people dance from his hiding place. He had searched the crowd for Poppy. He hadn't seen her at first. He was afraid she hadn't come, until he saw Antoinette push Poppy into the room. The girl looked terrified. She regained her composure and straightened her dress. Erik had to do a double take. She was almost unrecognizable. Her long red hair and white skin was in stark contrast against a pure black dress. The dress had sliver stitches and trim. The shoulders drooped down. The waist was tight; the corset shaping her body into a slight hourglass shape. It ended just above her hips where it gently flared into a black skirt. Her masque was black with shiny black and sliver feathers. It covered her upper face. Erik tried to get his breathing under control by looking elsewhere. He spotted Christine and Raoul. It still hurt, but he was right by letting her go. He still cared for her. He only hoped that the fop will not be too much of one and will take care of her. No, he loved the sharp-tongued redhead. Erik's gaze wandered back to Poppy. She was finally out on the floor dancing. Slight jealousy rose as she danced across the floor. He pushed it down and disappeared. It was almost time for the Opera Ghost to crash the party.

XxX

"I want to thank you for introducing me to Christine."

Shit. Just her luck. Raoul. She forced a smile. "You are welcomed." She tried to spin out of his arms, but he tightened his hold.

"Christine tells me that that you are in love with her vocal teacher. And that this same 'vocal teacher' is quite possibly the so-called Opera Ghost, that is scaring the mangers here."

Double shit. Damn the rubber lipped twit! "Hmm. Well, I don't know about that. My…her teacher is very much a real man. I, for one, don't believe in ghosts. Much less the 'Opera Ghost.' I think that some stagehand is playing a joke on the mangers. One that was taken too far." She succeeded in twisting away from him. Poppy walked over to the Grand Stair case, wishing she knew her way around the foyer better, for she stumbled a few times. She missed her cane. She had tied to fix it when it had broken, but couldn't, so she had to establish a feel of her surroundings around her.

Masquerade! Paper faces on parade!

Masquerade!

Hide your face, so the world

will never find you!

Masquerade!

Every face a different shade!

Masquerade!

Look around -  
There's another  
mask behind you!  
Masquerade!  
Burning glances,  
turning heads . . .  
Masquerade!  
Stop and stare  
at the sea of smiles  
around you!  
Masquerade!  
Grinning yellows,  
spinning reds . . .  
Masquerade!  
Take your fill -  
let the spectacle  
astound you…

Unexpectedly to the people but not to Poppy, the music stopped. She heard gasps of fear. Oh how she wished she could see! The looks these people must have! She let out a small evil giggle. Poppy heard the purposely-heavy footsteps of Erik. He drugged out the suspense. With out warning, his silky voice echoed though the large foyer.

"Why so slight, good messieurs? Did you think I have left you for good? Have you missed me good messieurs? I have written you an opera! Here I bring the finished score—"_Don Juan triumphant_"!

Poppy heard a loud thump as he threw the manuscript. She then heard him continue down the staircase. She slowly walked along the staircase.

"Fondest greetings to you all, a few instructions just before the rehearsal starts: Carlotta must be taught to act…."

Carlotta was back? She had been so uncharacteristically quite.

"Not her normal trick of strutting around the stage." A pause," Our Don Juan must lose some weight—it's not healthy in a man Piangi's age!"

Aww, didn't know that he cared! Poppy rolled her eyes, stifling a giggle.

"And my mangers must learn that their place is in an office—not the arts! As for our star…." He dropped his voice so that it was slow and sinister," Miss Poppy O'Cullen…"

Poppy froze. She was not excepting that! What the hell was he doing?

"…No doubt she'll do her best—it's true her voice is good. She knows though, should she wish to excel, she was much to learn. If she lets me teach her…"

Poppy didn't know what he was playing, but she played along. She moved up closer, until she was in front of him. Without warning Erik reached out and grabbed Poppy by the waist. Poppy let out a surprised gasp.

Holding her close Erik lets all hear, "You will sing for me!"

Poppy then heard a small pop and smelled smoke. She then let out a small laugh of joy at the feeling of her and Erik free falling. When they landed Poppy heard a slam above her head. Poppy pushed Erik away playfully, "What was that up there? What were you thinking?"

Erik smirked, "So, I like to show off. So sue me." Using one of her lines.

"That's my line! You're starting to sound like me."

"And is that good or bad?"

"Bad! Very bad. I can see it now: the Phantom of the Opera uses slang when threatening the mangers or scaring the Rats!"

They both laughed until they heard the music start up again, precariously. Erik stopped laughing. Turning serious, he walked up to her. Taking her hand, he bowed. Then pulling her close, whispered, "May I have this dance?"

Poppy could only nod. Around the room they waltzed, Erik holding her close. After Poppy was able to clear to fog that was trying to settle over her brain, something came to mind. "Erik?"

"Yes?"

Poppy raised her head from his shoulder where she had laid it. "Up there, what did you mean by it?"

"It means that you will receive singing lessons from me. To become even better. So that you can take the lead role in the opera."

Poppy stopped, making Erik stop too. She looked in his eyes. Even though she could not see, she always tried to face the one she was talking to. "I hope you will not try to turn me in to a Christine. Because I'm not her, and I am not planning on being like her. I hope you know that."

Erik understood, "I sure hope not. No, I thought hard about it. Now that I look at it, Christine could never make it believable. She is too young. She would not understand the meaning of the words. You would. The music will suit your voice."

Poppy nodded then let out a groan, "I only really wanted a simple answer for the moment and you _Maestro_ turned it into a long answer."

Erik laughed, "Oh hold on. I have something for you. Wait here, close your eyes."

Poppy let out another groan, "Ha, ha, ha. Very funny." But she laughed anyway.

Erik stepped away. He was gone for perhaps five minutes. When he came back he told her to hold out her hands. She did so, and a hard, long, thin object was placed into her hands. She felt up and down the pole. Carved into it were designs. On the end was a brass tip. She turned to Erik. "What is it? A cane?"

"Yes. I noticed that you had broken your cane weeks ago. I had started to make you a new one, but I had gotten caught up with Christine and had forgotten about it. You remembered your birthday last night, I remembered your cane, and therefore I finished it last night. Happy Birthday."

Tears came to Poppy's eyes. They hurt, but this time she ignored them. She hugged Erik, "Thank you. Thank you very much. What are the designs?"

Instead of answering her, Erik begin singing softly,

"_Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens, Cream colored ponies and Wild geese that fly with the moon on their wing, When your feeling sad, simply remember your favorite cane, And then you won't feel so bad."_

As he sang he guided her fingers over the cane. On it he had carved roses, cats, horses, geese and a moon. She looked up at him. "It's beautiful. Thank you." She reached up and gave him a small kiss. Just a brush of her lips over his. Suddenly she winced.

Erik stood shocked, finally he shook his self. "What's wrong?" he asked thinking it was he that caused her to flinch.

"Something just pinched me. Think we can go… hom—back now?"

"Yes." He took her by her hand and led the way back to the lair.


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31**

Poppy found out that being tutored by Erik was no picnic. Erik surprisingly, was patient, but unwavering. It was Poppy that lost her patience several times. It first started when Poppy kept hitting the wrong note. It was to be a high C, but she could only go an octave lower.

"Stop! You'll strain your voice if you keep doing that!" Erik interrupted.

Poppy gritted her teeth, "I'm not a soprano. Only a mezzo. It's hard for me to hit this note."

Erik nodded, "I know. But you can. Don't tighten your throat. Relax it, and breath from your diaphragm. Now try it." He played the same note.

Poppy took a deep breath and did as he said and……let out a really sour C. She blushed and clapped her hands over her mouth. When she did, Erik's fingers slipped on the keys, making the organ crash. He turned to stare at her. "What was _that_?"

Poppy shook her head, beet red, trying to choke back her laughs. It was not really funny, but she couldn't help it. The sound that she had just made would've shamed Carlotta. Poppy couldn't hold back her laughs any more. She burst out laughing.

Erik's eyebrow rose. "So, you think it's a laughing matter?"

Poppy finally composed herself. She lightly cleared her throat, "No. It just hit me funny at the moment. But, Erik it's too high. I can't sing the note."

Erik though for a minuet, "Ok, let's try something new. Let's move you into a different posture." And he did so, moving her until she stood right beside him. "Now head back and feet apart. Good. Who taught you before?"

"A mediocre teacher."

Erik didn't say a word.

"I know that silence! So don't look at me like that! It was hard trying to find a teacher that didn't want a signed parent's slip. He was desperate for money, so he didn't ask for one. So long as I had the money up front, he didn't care." Poppy glared at him, "It was ether that or nothing!"

Erik laughed and held his hands up, "Easy there. I was just wondering. Very well, forget every thing he taught you. Just listen to me."

"Yes, oh my great _Maestro._" Poppy quipped sarcastically, "I'm sorry. We are trying to accomplish the impossible."

"No we are not. Now lets try again." Erik turned back to the organ. Playing once again, he nods as her voice became much better, almost hitting the troublesome note. He stopped halfway though the song, making corrections before she damaged her voice. "You are still straining your voice." He walked behind her, "breathe deeply into your diaphragm. It will allow you to carry the long notes out longer. Your voice will carry better."

Poppy took a deep breath and held it for a minute, stretching her lungs. She slowly let out. Holding good form, she beginning to sing again. The small changes made a grave difference. Halfway though, Erik suddenly places his hand on the small of her back the other on her stomach and presses, making her hit the longed for high C.

Poppy shivered as he pulled his hands away.

"Now, I'll play, you sing." He paused, "Now relax. Do it again."

_Silly Ghost, I can't relax when you pull stunts like that! I can't even concentrate properly when you're around._ Poppy thought, trying to remember how to breathe. She nodded, "Play."

Erik begins to play again, feeling pleased when her voice hit the high C. With out a word he played the song again, without stopping. Again she hit all the correct notes. He stopped and looked up at her. She looked shocked. He let out a small chuckle. "What's wrong?"

Poppy shook her head and smiled down at him, "No words. Thank you Erik."

"Welcome. You are ready, but we will still practice."

Poppy walked up to him and set down beside him. "But, it will still be hard. Tempers will fly." He warned. She laid her head on his shoulder, "Can't wait."


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter 32

Poppy slowly woke up and stretched, kicking something soft. Whatever it was let out a groan, and grabbed her foot, causing her sit straight up. "Wha-"

"You kicked me." Came the answer.

Poppy yawned, "I'm sorry."

Erik grunted. Sure she was! He grabbed the other foot. From the position at the other end of the couch, Erik watched her wake up. Her red hair was messy; her white eyes half closed. But to him, she was still beautiful. They had sung until late last night. They had collapsed on the couch, exhausted. They both quickly fell asleep. And some how Erik ended on the opposite side of the couch, Poppy on the other. As he watched her now, an evil thought came to mind. One that soon made him regret it. Erik slowly ran his fingers on the underside of her feet. Almost instantly her eyes went wide and she kicked. The heel of her left foot hit him in the chest. He let out a groan, feeling the breath leaving his body. He saw her shoot off the couch, trip and run over by the organ.

"Felt good Erik? I hope so! Don't try that again. I hate being tickled."

Erik caught his breath, "Oh really? Well then…I know exactly what to do." He stood and stalked over to her, letting his shoes make sound.

She let out a yelp and ran around to the back of the couch. "Don't you dare Erik! Don't even try! I'm warning you!"

Erik just smirked and stopped, making Poppy lose track of him. He stood there and watched her strain listening for him. She moved to the end of the couch and stopped.

"Erik? Come on, this is not funny."

He thought it was. Quietly, he walked up to her, reached out to grab her…when she reached out and grabbed him. Catching him off guard, she was able to spin him, causing him to fall down on the couch. Erik figured that if he was going down, so was she. She let out a surprised gasp, as they both landed on the couch, Poppy on his chest.

"That was not—"Poppy was cut off when Erik raised his head and caught her lips with his. She froze in surprise, but quickly returned the kiss. They were like that for several minutes, lip locked, when someone cleared their throat.

Trying not to laugh and jump for joy, Mme. Giry asked, "Am I interrupting anything?"

Both Erik and Poppy thought at the same time, _Yes! _

Erik helped a blushing Poppy off of his chest. Poppy sat down on the couch, hiding her face. Erik glared at Mme. Giry. "What do you want?" his voice husky.

Antoinette let Erik get away with speaking to her like that. "We have problems. The cast is demanding that Poppy should be up there. And they are having trouble with the music."

Erik growled, flustered, "The idiots!" he sighed, "Poppy, go on up there with Mme. Giry. I'll fix it."

For once Poppy didn't argue. She grabbed her new cane and shoes and followed Antoinette up the tunnel.

Erik let a string of French curses out, took a few deep breaths, collected his self, and took a different path.


	33. Chapter 33

Chapter 33

Firmin was in his office pacing back and forth. André was at the desk. Don Juan was open in front of him. He was flipping thought it. Out of the two of them, only he could read and understand music. And now he wished he didn't. The music was unlike any he had ever seen. The story it's self! The story was a lot like the Don Juan legend! It was scandalous!

He slammed it closed. "Ludicrous! This is ludicrous! Have you seen the score?"

Firmin looked over at him, "Yes! It is simply preposterous!"

"It's the finale straw! You know my views… but we dare not refuse!"

Firmin walked over to the desk and picked up two letters. "Look, my friend at we have here." Both letters have The Phantom's red skull seal on them. He hands the one addressed to Andre to him. Andre opens his.

"Dear Andre, Re my orchestrations: you need another first bassoon. Get a player with tone—and that third trombone has to go! The man could not be deafer, so please preferably one who plays in tune!"

So he was not the only one to notice it.

Firmin opened his. "Dear Firmin, vis a vie my opera: some chorus-members most be shacked. If you could find out which has a sense of pitch—wisely though, I've managed to assign a rather minor role to those who can not act!"

As if on cue, Carlotta storms in. Her posse and Piangi follow her.

"Outrage! This whole affair is an outrage! Have you seen the size of my part!"

André grimaced, "Signora, please…listen…"

Piangi decides to speak up. "It's an insult!"

Firmin looks over at him in surprise, "Not you as well!"

He continues, "Just look at this-it's an insult!"

Andre looks like his about to cry, "Signor! Signora, please understand…"

Carlotta stabs a finger at the score, "the things I have to do for my art!"

"If you can call your singing 'art'."

They all turn. Poppy was standing in the doorway, with a slight smirk. Mme. Giry beside her.

"Ah! This explains it! She's the one behind this."

Poppy scoffed, "Sure, I am."

Firmin looked down at the opera, "You _have_ secured the largest role in this 'Don Juan'."

Poppy shook her head, "That surprised me. I didn't know he would assign me that role."

"Her? She doesn't have the voice."

Poppy rounded on her, "You _should_ be glad he even thought of you. After all, he did put you in his Opera."

Carlotta stood there shocked. Her divaized brain had not even thought of that. This Opera Ghost hated her, yet he did put her in the Opera. She blushed with anger.

Andre waved his hands to get attention. When he had it he sighed, "We are not going to put it on. Its just what he wants."

Poppy sighed, "Before you throw it out the door, first, think of this: a new opera…written by a ghost…the theater will be swimming with people. People who will pay top dollar to see a new opera that was written by a ghost." She grinned as they all went quite, "Plus has he ever made a wrong decision about the opera house? He always pointed out the wrongs. And when you listened, did it not run much more smoothly?"

The two greedy mangers thought. The woman did have a point as much as they hated to admit. They looked at each other and back at the group. "On with the show!"


	34. Chapter 34

Chapter 34

Poppy was talking a break from therehearsals. She stood outside the doors that led to the stage. God. They were a bunch of idiots. She sighed. Poppy was about ready to go back in when she heard Christine call her name. Shit. What did she want?

"Poppy! May we speak with you?"

We?

"Afternoon, MademoisellePoppy."

Oh. Damn. Raoul as well.

"Poppy, I want to ask you. Are you really singing in the Opera?" Christine wondered.

"Yes. I am singing in it. Why?"

Raoul pipped up, "I believe that this could be the chance to ensnare our clever friend."

"What!"

"We shall play his game. Perform his work. But—we hold the ace. For if you sing, he is certain to attend. We'll make certain the doors are barred. And that armed men well be there…"

"Shut up!" Poppy shouted, "Just shut up! Why do you want to do this?"

Raoul opened his mouth in surprise, "Is he not holding you prisoner? Like he held Christine? Plus he killed. He must be brought to justice."

Poppy shook her head, annoyed, "Listen here. He is not holding me prisoner. He did not hold Christine prisoner. I know, I was there. Nothing happened."

"Well, that may be so. But he still killed…"

"He did not kill that man."

"And how do you know?" he asked skeptically.

Poppy thought of a quick lie. Hopefully they both where stupid enough to believe it and know that the time lapse would be impossible. "Because, I was with him that night. I left the opera early and met up with him." She blushed for show.

Raoul raised an eyebrow. He wouldn't have thought…

"And there is no crime for him to have the mangers produce his opera."

"They are going to do that? Did he threaten them any way?"

Poppy scuffed "No. They want to. In fact, I must be going back to rehearsal." She turned to walk back though the doors when she stopped, "By the way, when are you two getting married?"

Christine blushed as Raoul answered, "Soon. She wants to see the opera. Then we will leave for London."

"Well, congratulations." With that she turned to walk back to the auditorium.


	35. Chapter 35

**Chapter 35**

When Poppy walked back onto the stage, it was a madhouse. Poor Reyer were supervising the rehearsals. They were just moving on to a new piece of the opera. Poppy heard him hit a wrong note on the piano. When the music was played correctly, it was almost beautiful. The reason she thought _almost_ was that it was _not_ to be beautiful like say, Mahler's Das Lied von der Erde. It was harsher, creepy. But it still screamed that it was written by a musical genius.

Poppy joined them, sitting down next to Piangi. The man was struggling with the words. As the hour wore on, Poppy was ready to sell her soul for some aspirin. Her head was pounding.

When they got to the final scene, she was almost in tears. Her head was hurting so bad. The chorus began singing.

"_Hide your sword now, wounded knight! Your vainglorious gasconade brought you to your final fight— for your pride high price you've paid!"_

It was Poppy's turn_: "Silken couch and hay-filled barn— both have been his battlefield_. "

Piangi begins, but gets it wrong. _"Those who tangle with don Juan…."_

Poppy rubs her temples as Reyer stops him.

"No, no, no! Chorus—rest, please…Don Juan, Signor Piangi—here is the phrase. _"Those who **tangle **with don Juan…." _If you please?"

"_Those who tangle with don Juan."_ Still wrong.

"No, no. Nearly—but no. ""No, no,_ "Those who tan, tan, tan…"_

"_Those who tangle with don Juan…." _Still wrong. How surprising.

Carlotta was behind Poppy. Poppy head her speak to the others. "His way is better. At least he makes it sound like music!" she said snippily.

Poppy turned to fix her with her white eyes. She knew her white dead eyes were disturbing. She had stopped wearing her glasses. "Would you speak that way in the presence of the composer?"

Carlotta didn't get the implication of the warning, "The composer is not here. And if he were here I would say to him…"

"Are _you certain_ of that, Signora…" Poppy purred darkly.

Reyer interrupted, "So once again—after seven," he plays the note, "Five, six seven…"

"_Those who tangle with don Juan."_ Still wrong.

Poppy groaned, as it erupted in a mad house.

"Ah, piu non posso!" Carlotta shrieked, "What does it matter what notes we sing? No one will know if it right, or if it is wrong. No one will _care_ if it right, or if it is wrong." In a high pinched voice she began mocking the line,"_ "Those who tangle with Don Juan."_

Piangi tried again. _"Those who tan, tan, tan…"_ he turned to Poppy, "is right?"

Poppy tried to lend a helping hand to him. He was really a sweet man when Carlotta was not hounding him. "Not quite, Signor. '_Those who tan… tan…"_

Reyer thumps on the piano, "Ladies… Signor Piangi…if you please…." He thumps on it again, and walks over to try to get attention. It was at the height of the noise when the piano started playing the song correctly. Poppy smiled slightly. Only Erik knew the song correctly, but how he was doing that, she didn't know. It played with great force and rhythm. All around her fell silent and froze, then suddenly stars to sing robotically and accurately. As they sung, Poppy sunk away.

"_Poor young maiden! For the thrill on your tongue of stolen sweets  
you will have to pay the bill - tangled in the winding sheets!"_

Rubbing her temples, Poppy made it to the secret tunnel. Erik was waiting. Without a word he picked her up.

"Erik, I can walk." She tried to wiggle out of his arms. They tightened.

"I know. But I enjoy carrying you."

"But I hate being carried." Poppy said giving up and going still. She sighed and laid her pounding head against his hard chest, closing her eyes.

Erik laughed quietly, as he carried her down the tunnel. He didn't blame her leaving rehearsals. They were getting rather loud. There was two more days until the première of his opera. He'll let her sleep for as few hours, and then they'll practice some more.__


	36. Chapter 36

Chapter 36

XXx

When Poppy woke, her headache had died to a dull ache. She was lying on her bed. She hoped Erik was not mad at her for sneaking away from rehearsals. Standing up she walked over to the wardrobe. She felt along the dresses, until she came to what she wanted. Poppy still hated dresses, but she had no choice. A few weeks ago she was looking for her jeans, but had not found them. When she had approached Erik about it, all he said was that she had no need for them any more. Poppy had stomped off angrily. She didn't talk to him for hours. When he was gone one day she had hid all his pants and shirts, replacing them with dresses. When Erik had come back, he of course did not find it amusing. He had raged and yelled. She had just stood there and waited. Then calmly told him that it was one step away from her making him wear the cages. And that since he had not been upholding his part of the bargain, she deserved some leeway. Erik had considered that, and gave her a pair of old breeches and shirt, telling her never to wear them out of the lair. She gave him his clothes back.

She pulled them on now. She ran a brush though her tangled hair. As she dragged the brush though the knots, she would've shorn that the rats played in her hair while she slept. After she finally untangled her hair, Poppy quickly braided it. When she had first come here, her hair was at her waist. Now it was at her hips. She sighed as she gave her hair one last tug. Poppy grabbed her cane that Erik had carved and given her for her birthday. She didn't really need it any more down here, but she loved it, can't put it down.

Poppy walked out the door. She found Erik at his organ. He was not playing, so she guessed that he was just writing. She waited for a few minutes before speaking, "Erik?"

Erik had been working on some documents, when he heard Poppy say his name. He looked up at her and inwardly groaned. She was wearing the shirt and breeches that he had given her after her stunt she pulled weeks ago. Where she was almost as tall as he, she filled the clothes out very well. So well in fact, he felt a part of him stir to life. He forced his self back under control. "Y-yes?"

"I have to ask. Are you upset that I snuck out during practice?"

Erik was surprised that she asked that. "No. In fact I don't blame you for doing so. They were getting rather loud. Monsieur Reyer has them under control now, and they are sounding much better. The group has departed. They are finished for the day." He turned to put the papers away, "We, however, are just starting. Come here."

_Great_, Poppy thought, _another long night_. She did so though. Poppy stood beside him.

"Good. Now, sing your scales." Erik played the accompaniment on the organ.

She did them perfectly, but then surprised Erik by singing the soprano scales. He stopped playing, but she kept on. He watched her. She was hitting all the right notes. Poppy finished and grinned at Erik. "What? I had a great teacher," she said, winking. "We were going to sing?"

"Oh. Yes, we are."

For the next hour they sang. After the initial part of practice was over, Poppy stopped singing. She just stood there, listening to Erik sing. He was deeply engaged in a score she knew she should recognize. As she listened, she silently walked up behind him, and let her hands slowly slide up his spine to his shoulders and neck. The muscles were tense and hard. She marveled at the strength in him. As she massaged him gently, he began to relax. He turned and stared up at her. "What are you doing?"

It was time. Time to see if he knew who she was. Time to see that when he saw her, he knew who she was. "Erik, who am I? Who do you see?"

He was taken back by the question. At first he thought her confused, then he understood the meaning of the implication. She wanted to know that it was her he saw, not Christine. "I see a beautiful, fiery young woman. One that has opened my eyes. I see someone who is blind, but saw things much more clearly then one who can see. I see you, Poppy O'Collen. The one that I love is—"

Poppy just stood there. Unchecked feelings ran though her. Surprising them both, she leaned in and found his lips. It was only a brief kiss, but it had much more then just a brush of lips. Erik reached up and grabbed her by her waist, pulling her down onto his lap. Poppy pulled back, blushing lightly. "Well, you aren't shy no more. Are you?"

Erik laughed lightly, "No." he leaned in again, kissing her harder.

Poppy didn't complain. His lips were addictive. They were like that for a long while. When Erik's hands began to stray elsewhere, Poppy allowed him to so, until they got a little too bold. She got scared and nervous. Pulling away lightly, she stopped his hands, from traveling to her breasts. She shook her head, "No. Not now. I—we shouldn't. When I'm ready. But not now." She whispered regrettably, breathing hard.

Erik nodded. He understood. He wanted to wait as well, make sure this was she wanted. He got his self under control. Helping her up, he turned back to the music. "Shall, we practice some more?"

Poppy let out a breath of air and nodded. They sung until, she was almost asleep on her feet. Erik noticed, stopped, and went to carry her to her room. She glared at him, but made no move to stop him. She was already asleep when he laid her down on her bed. Erik stared down at her, brushed a stray hair out of her face. He then turned and left to prepare for Don Juan. It was to be performed very soon.


	37. Chapter 37

**Chapter 37**

The day before Don Juan was wild. There were last minute preparations, costume fittings, rehearsals, and set building. Reyer had finally caught Poppy so that she could rehearse with Piangi. He was a nice man. She liked him, but didn't like him touching her. It may have only been rehearsals, but she couldn't help shuddering every time. Reyer finally deemed that they were ready. Poppy nodded to Piangi as she left the stage area. Mme. Giry met her.

"Hello, Mme. Giry. Is anything wrong?" Poppy inquired.

"No. Nothing is wrong. But I do have to talk to you. So, if you may, follow me." Mme. Giry told her, "Come."

With Poppy following her, they made their way though the turmoil. They arrived to Mme. Giry's room. Pushing Poppy inside, Mme. Giry closed the door. "Sit down please." Poppy sat down in a chair, as Mme. Giry did the same.

"Poppy, Erik has told me the truth a bout you. That you are for the future. This can be possible, so I'll not think too much on it, for it explains your words and actions. As for the future, you already knew about him. I feel that you don't know everything about him." Poppy opened her mouth, but Mme. Giry stopped her, "if you are thinking that I'm trying to turn you away from him, you are wrong. You need to know his past. He would tell you is self, but it is too painful. Listen and understand. Years ago, I went to a traveling fair. I was 12. I have never been to one before. There were strong men, jugglers, and performing monkeys. There was also a freak show. At the end of the line there was a cage on wheels. The bars were almost a foot apart. I couldn't see what animal it contained." Poppy had a feeling that she knew. Mme. Giry continued. "I heard the clank of chains and saw something laying on the straw inside. Just then a beefy, red-faced man came up. He offered rotten fruit and other disgusting items. "Have a go, pelt the devil's child!" The thing in the cage came up closer. I then saw that it was only a little boy. The right side of his face was disfigured. It was cut, bruised. People around me cried out in fear and disgust, running away. But not me. Child, I have seen pain in the eyes of wounded and dying men, but I have never seen pain as I have seen in his. I had a toffee apple, walking up to the cage I gave it to him. The red-face man began to yell at me. I, flinched, and turned to run as well. When I looked back, the man was beating, the boy. I started to yell out, to try and get him to stop, when the boy took a piece of rope and strangle the man. When he was dead, the boy climbed out of the cage. He stared at me, and then turned to run, but I reached out and grabbed his arm. I had heard people coming. Throwing my shawl over him, I led the boy to the opera house. It was being renovated at the time, so it was empty. This boy, as you may know now was Erik. He was nine when I first saw him and led him here. I am telling you this so that you will know want he went threw."

Poppy sat there shocked. The things he went though! It was hard not to pity him. Hard to say that she didn't. But it didn't change anything. If anything it made her love him even more. To know the torture that he went though, and him not turn into a monster. Only a man that needed love and understanding. His one flaw was that temper of his. To bad they didn't have anger management yet. Her eyes teared up and spilled over, "I only knew that he was beaten. I didn't know the full details. Thank you for telling me. Now I truly understand."

Mme. Giry nodded, "You still love him?"

Poppy wiped her eyes, "Yes, of course I do! Does not change anything."

Mme. Giry placed her hand on Poppy's, "I'm glad. Loving him will not be easy. He has a lot of problems. Ones that will take awhile to leave him. He needs a strong woman beside him. I'm glad that it's you." Mme. Giry stood. "Come. You will need some rest. It is already late, and tomorrow will be a big day for all of us."

XXX

Up in the dome of the Opera House, the rusty chains holding the chandelier slowly began to crack, causing the huge crystal chandelier to shudder.


	38. Chapter 38

Chapter 38 

Poppy woke up early. This was the day. Today was the day of Don Juan! She slowly got out of bed. She was scared as hell. Performing on stage in front of a few people is one thing; performing on a stage in front of hundreds is another. She slowly got dressed, lingering around, not rushing. She played around; Ayesha had come in, so she played with her for a while. Finally she couldn't put it off any more, she walked out were Erik was. He was back; she had heard him moving around when she got up. When she had come down to the lair last night he was not there. She waited for him as long as she could, but grew too sleepy, so she went onto bed. Sighing, she walked out of her room.

XxX

Erik had come back late last night. He was out taking care of some businesses. He had checked in on Poppy. He found her asleep. He had stood in the doorway watching her. Erik knew it was not proper to do so, but he couldn't help it. He finally tore his self away. He knew that Mme. Giry had told her about his past. Or at least what Antoinette knew.

He wanted to be angry at her, but in away was relived, and embarrassed. Poppy had told him about her past, yet he didn't tell her his. But, it was too painful. Too much for her to know all of it. He walked over to the model of the stage. Moving some figures around, Erik sung quietly.

"_Seal my fate tonight—I have to know—have to be sure—let all know—let all see…let the audience in…let a new life begin!"_

He turned when he saw Poppy walk out from her room. He picked up a idem from the desk and slipped it into his pocket. Poppy walked up to him. She looked tried, pale. Erik brushed a lock of red hair out of her face. "Poppy? What is wrong?"

She caught his hand, "I'm scared. I 'm afraid of screwing up your Opera."

Erik shook his head, "You'll be fine. Don't worry, we have worked hard. You won't 'screw up' anything," he leaned in and kissed her deeply, "Come, you must get ready."

Poppy nodded, breathless. She didn't know how he did it, but he had taken away the fear.

Erik grabbed his cloak, and led her to the boat. He wanted to take the long way. Helping her in to the boat, Erik pushing them off. As he steered them along, Poppy could not help remember the day they met. Her whacking him with her cane, snapping at him, laughing at him, playing with him. All in all, teaching him how to relax, to have fun.

Erik watched her as she became lost in thought. "Sing," he commanded. Poppy jumped, turned to face him.

"What?"

"Sing. We need to warm your voice up."

Poppy was surprised, "What song?"

"You _know_ which one." His voice held something Poppy couldn't identify.

She nodded. _"Beneath the opera house, I know he's here. He's on the stage with me, he's everywhere. And do I dream again for now I know the Phantom of the Opera is real."_

Erik didn't think that she would change the words, but he went with it, _"Sing once again for me. My love will be with you. And though you are scared, the Phantom of the Opera will be with you—on the stage."_

"_Those who have seen your face, drew back in fear…I will be the mask you wear…"_

"_It will be me they hear…."_

"_Your/my spirit and your/my voice in one will be combined the Phantom of the Opera will be there—on the stage."_

Poppy began to sing the mezzo scales, then moved into the soprano ones. When she finished, she felt that she could take on anything. She turned to Erik, "Thanks."

Erik smiled, "You're welcome." They had reached, the bank. Helping her out, he led her up the stairs and ramps. When they got to the stage, Erik stayed in the shadows.

Poppy turned to him.

"Make me proud," Erik whispered, running a cool hand across her cheek.

Poppy closed her eyes, "I will." Then the hand was gone. Sighing she went to get changed for the show.

XxX

"Ow! Damn it! You know it was men that invented these damn things! No sane woman would wake up one day and, "let's try to make ones waist so small that they can't breathe!"

"Are you done?" Mme. Giry rolled her eyes and gave one last pull on the black corset. Poppy's already small waist collapsed even smaller.

"Complaining to you, yes. To who ever designed these costumes, no. Who was it?"

"Erik."

"Then, I'm not done complaining to him."

Mme. Giry just smiled. She weaved a white rose though Poppy's hair. They had tried to curl it, but Poppy's straight hair would not curl. Poppy had to go 80's and tease it. She then curled it. She was almost afraid of what it looked like, but Mme. Giry said it looked great. Things were going along fine, but Mme. Giry had a feeling that Erik was about to do something that will shock all.

XXX

As the music played, the chandelier shuddered.

XxX

The Opera started fine, Reyer taking his bow, and with a flick of his wrist, the orchestra began the overture. It was an inharmonious, a cacophony of sound. Hard and mean, just like Erik's life. The set was mostly red and black. A set of a brothel inn. In the middle of the stage was to pillars. Each had stairs going up to meet as a bridge. The chorus was dressed as gypsy whores and hags. The atmosphere was dark and erotic.

Here the sire may serve the dam; here the master takes his meat!  
Here the sacrificial lamb utters one despairing bleat!

Carlotta was dressed as a whorish hag. She makes the most of her part.

_Poor young maiden! For the thrill on your tongue of stolen sweets  
you will have to pay the bill - tangled in the winding sheets!_

Serve the meal and serve the maid!   
Serve the master so that, when tables, plans and maids are laid,   
Don Juan triumphs once again!  


She mikes her small part for all it was worth. When she was finally finished, Piangi, Don Juan, entered. So all in al everything was going well, but Poppy felt uneasy. She fidgeted, tugging on a red curl. Something was wrong. She felt it in her bones. Poppy felt someone nudge her. She turned to find Christine and Raoul.

"Poppy. We are leaving early. I want to say that I am sorry. I'm sorry that I treated Erik like I did, but, I could not love him. I'm glad that he has you. Good-bye and good luck."

Poppy stood there shocked. Huh, some people always seem to amaze you. She figured that she better say something nice, "Thank you. And good luck to you as well," She guessed that Christine had wanted an apology, but Poppy was not sorry for all the things she said and done to Christine.

"Yes. It was nice meeting you Poppy. Come Christine, our carriage is a-waiting."

They left, Poppy not giving them another thought. She turned back to the Opera.

"…Furtively, we'll scoff and quaff, stealing what, in truth, is mine.  
When it's late and modesty starts to mellow, with the wine ...  
You come home! I use your voice - slam the door like crack of doom!  
I shall say: "come - hide with me!  
Where, oh, where? Of course - my room!"

"Poor thing hasn't got a chance!"

"Here's my hat, my cloak and sword.  
Conquest is assured, if I do not forget myself and laugh ... "

Poppy swallowed. It was time. Carrying a basket of red roses, she walked slowly out onto the stage. _  
_

"... no thoughts within her head, but thoughts of joy!  
No dreams within her heart but dreams of love!"

She knelt down on one knee. Poppy picked up a rose and began pulling the leaves off.

"Master"

"Passarino - go away!  
For the trap is set and waits for its prey ... You have come here in pursuit of your deepest urge, in pursuit of  
that wish, which till now has been silent, silent ..."

Poppy jumped at the sound of Erik's voice. She really didn't think that he'd come on the stage. In the movie he did so, to try to win Christine. But, he did not need to with Poppy. He had her already.

"_I have brought you,  
that our passions may fuse and merge -  
in your mind you've already succumbed to me   
dropped all defenses completely succumbed to me -  
now you are here with me: no second thoughts,  
you've decided, decided ... "_

Poppy heard him walk up to her. She slowly stood and turned to face him.

"_Past the point of no return -  
no backward glances:  
the games we've played till now are at an end ...  
Past all thought of "if" or "when" -  
no use resisting: abandon thought, and let the dream descend ..." _

Poppy heard him circle her, his passion growing with each rising note.

"_What raging fire shall flood the soul?  
What rich desire unlocks its door?  
What sweet seduction lies before us ...? "  
_

Finally he growled and reached for her, rasping fire as his hands wandered across her delicate skin. She could feel his gloved hands, his breath in her hair as he forced his song from his lungs. Her back pressed into his sturdy chest. Poppy couldn't breath. She didn't know what the hell he was doing. He released her, sliding his hands across her jaw and right arm. During practice, he had not really put his voice into the song, then again nether had she. But now, now he was throwing all of his self into the song.

"_Past the point of no return,  
the final threshold - what warm, unspoken secrets will we learn?  
Beyond the point of no return ... "_

It was her turn. She began to sing her heart out.

"_You have brought me to that moment where words run dry,  
to that moment where speech disappears into silence,  
silence ..._

I have come here, hardly knowing   
the reason why ...  
In my mind,  
I've already imagined our bodies entwining  
defenseless and silent - and now I am here with you: no second thoughts,

I've decided, decided ...

Past the point of no return -  
no going back now:  
our passion-play has now, at last, begun ..." Poppy began to walk to the stairs and to climb up them. "_Past all thought of right or wrong -  
one final question: how long should we two wait, before we're one ...? _

When will the blood begin to race the sleeping bud burst into bloom?  
When will the flames, at last, consume us ...?

She heard Erik climb up his set. Throwing her self into the song, he did the same. Both their voices rose._  
_

"_Past the point of no return the final threshold -  
the bridge is crossed, so stand and watch it burn ... _He grasped her, spinning her into his arms with fingers and palms that roamed. "_We've passed the point of no return ..." _

Poppy took a deep breath and relaxed into his touch. Slowly, Erik turned her. Taking her right hand slipped a cold metal ring one her finger.

_"Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime ...  
Lead me, save me from my solitude ...  
Say you want me with you, here beside you ...  
Anywhere you go let me go too -  
Poppy, that's all I ask of you!"_

Poppy felt along the band. It was a simple ring. A wedding ring. That's it! That's why all the secrets! She lifted her head. But be fore she could say anything; the same dreaded feeling came back. She then remembered. "Erik! The chandelier!" At that moment there was a loud groan and then a snap.


	39. Chapter 39

**Chapter 39**

Erik had waited impatiently, in the flies for Piangi. When the man finally came back behind the curtain, Erik jumped down. Before Piangi said a word, Erik knocked him over the head. Pulling the man out of the way, Erik took his place. When he emerged, from behind the curtain, he almost lost it. Poppy was kneeling on one knee pulling leaves off of a red rose. Her long straight red hair was curled, and framed her white face. A pure white rose was in her hair. She was wearing a white off shoulder peasant shirt. A tight black corset made her small waist smaller. Her skirt was gold with a short shimmering black overskirt. An angel and a seductress all in one. When he began singing, he saw her jump and shudder. She turned, and he saw her white eyes, but not her scars. She had applied make-up around her eyes. She looked like a beautiful, unearthly angel. When it was time for her part, she threw her voice in it. Finally, they reached the top of the bridge above the stage. Taking her in his arms, he asked his question, slipping a ring on her finger. Erik waited, terrified. Her head rose. She looked shocked. A flash of fear crossed her face. At first he was afraid that she was about to deny him, when she cried out, "Erik! The chandelier!"

Erik heard a groan and a snap. He looked out at the auditorium. Saw the chandelier shudder then began to fall. The long single chain that did not break glided the chandelier down toward the orchestra pit. In a panic the people began to run for the doors. The tremendous chorus of screams arose, operatic in magnitude, Carlotta's voice rising above the others. The chandelier crashed into the pit, causing the pit to burst into flames. Holding Poppy close, he jumped from the balcony, grabbed a hold of a rope, and swung easily down onto the stage.

Poppy let out a breath of air. She looked up at him, her dead eyes calm. The smoke insulted her nose, the screams hurting her sensitive ears. "Erik, we must do something! We can't let the Opera House burn!"

Erik nodded. He looked around; most of the people have gotten out. But the flames were spreading quickly. They had about five minutes to think and do something before the opera house becomes engulfed in flames. "Have any ideas?"

Poppy closed her eyes. They needed water. A lot of it. But how…."Erik. I think I know. The machines under the stage…the ones that uses the water from the lake…."

Erik knew. He grabbed Poppy to pull her out of harms way, but she ripped her arm free.

"Erik. There is no time. You can't do it alone. I will have to help."

Erik sighed, but she was right. He will need help. He pulled her behind the curtains. Leading her to a system of ropes, grabbing one he placed it in her hands. "Take this. When I say, start counting. Count to hundred. When you reach hundred pull this rope." Poppy nodded, gripping the rope tight. He spared a few seconds to kiss her. "I love you. Start counting." He turned and ran though the back stage. Just as he started down the steps to under the stage he heard someone yell.

"You!"

Turning he saw Firmin. He inwardly groaned, this was all that he needed. Someone pointing fingers.

"This is your fault! You damn…"

Erik was about to lose patience, "I have not the time for this!" he snarled, "I'm trying to same this Opera house from going up in flames. If you shut up and help me stop the flames, I'll forget that you are an incompetent imbecile."

Firmin flinched, "What can I do?"

"Follow me." Was all that Erik said. He disappeared down the stairs. Firmin hesitated, and then followed. He found The Phantom at the series of lead pipes. He was moving and reconnecting the pipes. "What do you want me to do?" The Phantom glared at him.

"I want you to move that end so that it faces toward the orchestra pit. That is where the fire is." He said it carefully, as if Firmin were a child.

Firmin nodded; he moved the end of the pipe, the pipe rolled. At first Firmin panicked, thinking he did something wrong, until he saw The Phantom nod. Firmin watched as the pipe somehow became suspended by several ropes. The pipe had been reconnected so that it faced the orchestra pit angled slighty upward.

"Count to fifteen."

Firmin jumped. The Phantom had appeared suddenly beside him. Firmin began to count. "1…2…3…is this going to work?"

The Phantom glared at him as he steadied the pipe. His eyes seared a hole into him.

Firmin swallowed and began to count again, coughing as smoke filled the area. "10…11…"

XxX

Poppy was coughing. Her lungs burned. Tears ran down her face. She began to sweat as time passed and the flames got closer. " 97…98…99…100." She pulled the rope, and felt it suddenly rip upward, cutting her hands. Poppy then heard a loud bang then a hissing noise. More smoke filled the air. Poppy moved backward, coughing.

XxX

Firmin heard a rushing sound, then saw the pipes jerk hard, knocking into him. He heard a crack then pain shoot up his side. He bent over, holding his side. Cold water ran acrossed his shoes. White smoke filled the small room. He began coughing again. Suddenly he felt hands on his shoulder.

"Come on fool" It was The Phantom. He glided Firmin up the stairs.

Erik led Firmin up the stairs. The man had been a surprise. But a help. Leaving him down there to suffocate on smoke seemed…wrong. Erik led him to where Poppy was. She was coughing violently. "Poppy?"

She looked up. "Erik? Oh thank god!" she ran to him, wrapping him in a warm hug. "Did it work?"

Erik looked out at the auditorium. The flames were indeed out. The first five rows of the seats were ruined. As well, as the orchestra pit. The chandelier laid broken, a mass of metal and crystals. Half of the stage was burned as well. But it was all fixable. "Yes, it did work. The Opera house is fine. Only trivial damage." He hugged her close until she winced. Erik pulled her away and looked at her. She was holding her hands at an awaked angle. "What happen to you hands?" he didn't give her time to answer. Erik took a hold to them, and gently pride them open. Poppy shuddered with pain. Her hands were cut deeply. The tender flesh tore open and bloody. The rope must have cut into her hands. "Oh, Poppy. I am so sorry." He took his handkerchief and tore it in two. He carefully banged her hands.

"It's fine. They'll heal. I'm sorry about your opera…."

Firmin had been holding his side, Looking out at the damage. Finally he snapped out of it. He tried to glare at The Phantom. But, found he couldn't. He was surprised, for he found his self grateful that The Phantom had saved the Opera house. He saw Poppy standing awfully close to The Phantom. "So, you are The Phantom of this Opera house?"

A pair of yellow eyes and a pair of white ones turned to face him. He grew uncomfortable under the stares.

The Phantom bowed elegantly, "I am, Monsieur," He mocked. Nodding at Poppy, "This is my..." he paused, lost for a moment. He glanced at Poppy.

Poppy step forward, "his…fiancée."


	40. Chapter 40

**You all love me (wipes a tear away) I try hard I ready do. You know if I have told you this before ignore it and continue reading, but this story, Love is Blind, well it was only meant to be a stress reliever. You know, something to write while echo works on the chapters to Broken Hearts. I didn't know that so many people would love this story. When I saw the awesome reviews I began to get more into the story…and the rest is history. I hope you all enjoy the story. **

Chapter 40

Erik and Firmin stared in shock at her. Erik walked up to her, taking her hands gently, "Really? You will marry me? This monster?"

Poppy shook her head, "No, I won't marry a monster, but I'll marry the_ man_ in front of me".

Forgetting what had happened and where he was and that she hated to be picked up, Erik embraced her and spun with her, tears in his eyes.

Poppy gasped and hid her face in the curve of his shoulder, holding onto him tight.

Erik put her down sheepishly, "I could not help myself."

Poppy just smiled and shook her head. She started to say something when they heard voices and shouting. The people were coming back inside. Now that the five was out, they wanted to see the damage.

Firmin cleared his throat, "I think it be best that you not be here when the police arrive. Go. But I'll like to talk to you monsieur? Soon?"

Erik's yellow eyes fixed upon him, "If it is to be a trap, I'll know. We'll 'talk' but at my time and my choosing. Remember… I'll know if you trick me."

Firmin shook his head furiously, "N-n-no!" he stuttered, "I won't do such a thing!"

"You better be sure," Poppy said firmly.

Firmin turned when he heard Andre and the others come up. He turned back to where the Phantom and Poppy was, to find them gone.

"Firmin! How did the fire get put out? Are you listing to me!"

Firmin grabbed Andre by the sleeve, "You won't believe me if I told you." He sighed, "After we clear this all up, we need to talk….."

XXX

Erik was leading Poppy down a long tunnel. It was one he rarely used but they needed to escape quickly. Poppy was unusually quite. He looked back at her. She looked deep in thought. She was still dressed in the gypsy costume, her bare feet making almost no noise on the cold stone floor. Finally, they arrived to his lair.

"Poppy? You need to change into something warmer."

She jumped, "What? Oh. Yes. I'll be just a minute." She went to her room in a daze to change.

Erik stared at her. He his self was shocked as well. She had agreed to marry him! It was want he was hoping, but he didn't really expect her to agree. He was indeed surprised, but then again since she had arrived, she was always surprising him. He went to get some gaze and ointment so that he could take care of her hands. The temporary bandage needed to be changed and the cuts cleaned or they would leave scars.

When he came back to the living room, he found Poppy sitting Indian style on the couch. She had changed into a loose heavy dress. The makeup around her eyes was gone.

Sitting down beside her, Erik took her hands. She winced but said nothing. "I'm going to clean these and put some ointment on your hands. It will burn a little, but if I don't do this they well scar and will be even sorer tomorrow." Erik told her as gently as possible, knowing that 'a little' was an understatement. It burned like if you would've stuck the hand in a fire.

Poppy looked up a slight smile at the corners of her mouth, "Fire away. Be quick."

Erik smiled and pulled the handkerchief away. Now that he had a good look, he saw that they looked worse then really was. In both palms, there was a deep gash. Not deep enough for stitches, but enough to hurt and be sore for a while. He cleaned them, watching Poppy grit her teeth. When he applied the ointment, her eyes went wide, her body ridged, "Bloody hell! Goddamnit! That burns! Erik, why do you bother with a damn clothesline, when you can throw this shit on someone? They'll be begging for the lasso!"

Erik laughed as he wrapped her hands, "I'm not _that_ cruel. I am merciful. They will be sore and stiff for a few days."

Poppy gave unladylike snort, "Sure." She sighed, "Well, I'm sorry about your opera. I wonder what cased the chandelier to fall? You didn't have a hand in it, I'm sure. So, how did it fall?"

Erik thought for a minuet, "No one has checked the chain and ropes holding the chandelier for almost ten years. So, I think age and rust did it."

Poppy nodded, "And it choose tonight to fall." Poppy set back against the couch, as Erik did the same, "You know Erik, some people never cease to surprise you." She said as she yawned and leaned her heard on Erik's shoulder.

"What do you mean?"

Poppy stifled another yawn, "Well, Carlotta was acting like a human today, not a squawking hen. Firmin helps out, and many other things." She didn't tell him about Christine and Raoul. She'll tell him latter.

"Yes. It is odd. But we will find out latter. Right now, you need to get to bed. It has been along day."

Poppy nodded, "You need some sleep as well."

"I'll get some latter."

Poppy sighed. _Stubborn ass_, She thought. Poppy gave him a small kiss on his cheek. "Good-night." And stood and walked to her room.

XxX

Latter that night, Erik walked into her room. As he watched her, he felt his emotions run amok. Leaning down he gave her a brushing kiss on her lips. Poppy's eyes opened. Her white eyes stared up into his, not seeing him. "Erik?"

He brushed his hand across her cheek, "Sorry that I woke you."

"It's fine." Poppy sat up, "You…" she didn't finish as he leaned in to kiss her fiercely. She moaned at the feel of his lips, and his tongue teased her mouth. When she granted it to him, his velvety tongue filled her mouth. When they broke apart, he saw her white eyes were filled with desire, and knew his reflected hers. Oh, God he loved her.

"Poppy…" He whispered.

"Yes Erik?" Her voice, husky with want, nearly made him break the promise he had made to himself long ago.

"I know you want it, as I do, but I want to wait until we are wed."

"All right, Erik." The desire slipped out of her eyes. "Stay tonight?" He nodded and lay down on his back. He cradled her on his left side, careful so that her hands would not get laid on or crushed. Poppy made one last comment before falling into a heavenly sleep.

"Up there, during the opera, was I dreaming or did you ask me to marry you?"

"Yes Poppy. I was. Are you having seconded thoughts?"

"Lord no! I was just making sure, that staying with you has not made me delusional."

"Very funny, my love." Holding her tightly, Erik fell into a peaceful sleep, holding Poppy close.

Now isn't that sweet? I still have some more chapters for this story, so it's not over yet. Please review!


	41. Chapter 41

**Chapter 41**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Phantom of the Opera**

When Poppy woke, she was laying against something hard. Running her sore hands across it, she found the edge of a hard cold mask. Erik was still asleep. She smiled, and eased out of bed. Quietly picking up her pack she walked out of the room. When she was in the main room Poppy took out her CD player and the books. She began ripping up the books, bits of paper surrounding her.

"What are you doing?"

Poppy jumped, "Getting rid of evidence."

Erik picked up a half torn book, "Evidence of what?"

She continued to rip the pages, "For one thing the Phantom of the Opera story is altered. If this book is ever found in the future, well, you're a genius figure it out. And the CD player is way ahead of its time. It needs to go. As well as the CDs."

He understood. History has been rewritten; it doesn't need any more surprises. Suddenly Poppy started laughing. "What's so funny?"

"I was just thinking, if this is going to be put as a musical. If not, imagine all the people that would be really pissed off at me."

Erik just shook his head, gathering up the ripped up books. "It may be best to burn these."

Nodding, Poppy scooped up the rest, and followed Erik to a part of the lair that had a fireplace. They both threw the books and the CD player in the ashes. Using a candle, he burned the paper. He stood back beside Poppy. He watched as the flames melted the CDs and the player. Bringing his attention back to the present, he saw that Poppy had moved away.

"I would step away from the fireplace Erik."

"Why?" he didn't get an answer, when there was a loud pop, causing both of them to jump. Poppy started laughing. "What was that!"

Gasping between breaths, "The batteries! They exploded!"

Erik went to pick up his cape, "I'm glad you found it amusing." He told her sarcastically.

"I'm sorry Erik, but not many has the chance to scare the mightily Phantom." She smirked.

Rolling his eyes, he placed the cape upon his shoulders. "I'm going to go up to the opera house. I'm going to grant Firmin his wish. One that he may not want. I want you to stay here."

All the humor left Poppy. Concern came upon her face. "Be careful. It may be a trap. No showing off." Her voice serious.

Wrapping her in a tight hug, he placed a kiss on her forehead. "I will. I won't. Wait here, I mean it." Letting go of her, he left, leaving Poppy to chew her lip in concern.

**I hate this chapter. It had not true meaning. But I have to write this with no damn muses. They up and left for the day. The next ones will be better. Can any one guess as to what will happen next? **


	42. Chapter 42

**Chapter 42**

**They are back! My muses are back! I can write better now. I hate when they leave me alone. Damn mean asses. Enough! Lets get on with the chapter.**

Erik made his way up to the Opera house. As he got closer, he could smell brunt wood and cloth.He took a slight detour so that he could see if anything was being done to fix the damage. When he got there, staying in the shadows, Erik saw that there was no one working on the stage and the few rows of seats that were ruined. The idiots. The longer they wait to fix the damage, the harder it will be to fix it. The water stains can damage any wood that was not burned. Shaking his head, Erik slipped into a hollow pillar. Walking behind the walls he made his way up to the mangers office. Behind the walls, he heard Firmin and Andre arguing.

"This is too much! When we signed on as owners and mangers, I didn't think that it would be this complicated!"

"You knew exactly what to expect! Running a opera house is not like running a junk business."

"Scrap metal."

"Scrap metal. Junk. It does not matter now! A broken rib and a half burned Opera house are too much for me. If we hadn't sunk everything into this place, I would just hand over the deed to any old bastard." Firmin yelled, and then in a normal voice continued, "What I'm planning to do just may help us all."

"What?" Andre inquired.

"I may-" he was interrupted when Erik's voice rang out.

"What was it you wanted? I have other businesses to attain to."

Andre went white. His jaw dropped. Glancing over at Firmin, he began to shake. Firmin paled, but got his self under control.

Swallowing hard, he prepared to throw the deal to this 'ghost'. "Monsieur, I am extremely grateful for you saving the Opera House."

The voice sighed impatiently, "Is that all?"

Firmin shook his head not sure whether or not he could see him do so, "No. Andre and I are leaving the Opera House. We would resale it, but money wise, we cannot. Therefore, we are going to in— I can't talk to an empty room. If you may, Monsieur, can you show yourself?"

There was a long period of silence. At first Firmin thought, he was gone.

"He's gone—" Andre whispered fearfully. He didn't get to finish when a tall shadowy figure became apparent in a dark corner. Two yellow eyes glared out from behind a white mask.

"I never have shown myself to Lefever, and he was less of a fool then you two. I do not make such appearances as if I'm some trained dog. Speak now, or I shall leave," He told them coldly.

Firmin nodded nervously, "Yes, I understand—"

"Do you now?" came the challenge.

"Monsieur, we are going to instate a new manger. I was hoping that you would take the position."

"What? Him? Are you crazy? Do you not know who he is? He's the bloodly Phantom! The one that has been making all the insane demands! It is unacceptable!" André shrieked.

"Do you want to run this madhouse any more? Put up with Carlotta? He can deal with her. He knows more about the Opera House then we could ever hope to know. Better to leave it in the hands of a 'ghost' then in the hands of one that well not know what he is doing."

André opened his mouth to protest some more, but then decided against it. "Fine. You do want you think is passable. I just want to leave this place and never look back."

Firmin turned to Erik. "Do you agree? Will you take the position?"

Erik didn't answer at first. He was too shocked. Them leaving and leaving the Opera house to him. To run it as he sees fit. "If I do…. I will run it as I see fit."

Firmin nodded, "You…"

Erik held a hand up, "No questions as to how I would run it. No hows. No whys."

"Yes."

Erik closed his eyes, thinking. "I will take the position. Few things though." He opened his eyes, "you may still own it, but I will not tolerate any put in. All decisions will be mine. Anything that has to do with the welfare of the Opera Populaire will be approved by me. Do you understand?"

André huffed, but nodded, as did Firmin.

"Good. Now you must make it legal. I will have enough problems with out the law crawling around here."

Pulling out several documents, Firmin quickly scribbled down his name, pushing the papers to André, "Sign."

As he signed the paper, he kept muttering, "This is a bad idea. I believe this is a terrible mistake."

Gathering up the documents, he handed then to Erik to sign. He scrawled his name down.

Firmin looked down at the familiar childish writing. _Erik **L**er**ou**x_.

"Erik Leroux?" Firmin inquired.

"Yes. You surprised that I had a name?" his voice held warning.

"I-I-You Monsieur Erik Leroux, are now the sole manger to the Opera Populaire."

**(Grins.) Did any of you guess at want was going to happen? Was this chapter a surprise to any of you? Wow. Would you look at that? 42 chapters. When I started writing this story, I didn't think that it'd be this long. And I still have some more chapters. Please Review!**


	43. Chapter 43

Chapter 43

**La la la la. Sorry. Wasn't paying attention. So, was you all surprised? You'll be even more surprised later. **

Poppy was pacing back and forth. She was worried. It was now past Don Juan. Even if everything didn't go by book or movie, it had still followed a pattern. Now she didn't know what would happen. Firmin and Andre were both fools. It could be a trap. Why they would want to would really be idiotic. Erik didn't kill anyone. She killed Buquet. Not that she was going to let anyone else know that. Piangi, she wasn't sure about, but Poppy had a feeling he wasn't dead, so there were no murders that they knew of to convicted Erik with. There was no intended sabotage to his opera. That was an accident. The only unlawful thing that they could pin on him is living under the Opera house. As an hour passed, she got increasingly agitated. Ayesha was setting on the couch watching her pace back and forth.

Poppy jumped when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She let out a small gasp and spun. "Erik? Are you all right? What happened?" Poppy fired the questions off.

Erik laughed, "Slow down."

Poppy took a deep breath, "Sorry, but I was worried. You can't imagine all the things that could have happened."

"I believe I could," he told her grimly.

"So, what happened?"

Erik took her by the hand and led her over to the couch. After they set down Erik preceded to tell her what happened.

"So, now you are the now official manger of the Opera Populaire?"

"It seems that way, yes. But I don't think I can do it." His voice broke. "I should not have agreed!"

Poppy's heart broke. She hated hearing the fear in his voice. It sounded so foreign coming from him. She hugged him close. "You can do it. Did you not truly run the Opera house when Lefever was manger? This will be no different. Only this time you don't have to hide. You will have full control. This is chance for you to live your life to the fullest. Isn't that what you have always wanted?"

Erik gathered her even closer into his arms. "How do you do it?"

"Do what?" Poppy was confused.

"Be so wise, yet childish."

"Oh. That. I just tell the obvious. And I speak what's in my heart. Erik, you are a genius. It is wasted down here." Poppy's voice turned from gentle to dill instructor, "So shape up. Be a man. Face the world with your head up high."

Erik shook his head, "My mask. My face. They…"

"Show them not the mask. But the man you are. Wear the mask if you must, but don't use it as a distraction. When you go up there, be not the Phantom, but as their new manger. I know that the prospect of facing people is terrifying, but if you want, I'll be by your side."

"Yes. By my side. As my wife." He sighed, "I'll do it."

"It'll be fine. You'll have me and Madame Giry to keep you in line."

Erik's eyes widened, "Keep me in line? More like keep _you_ in line _Cuquelicot_."

She laughed and pushed his chest, "Ha! You wish! You ever heard of that line? "Behind every great man, there is a woman? It's us _women_ who keep you _men_ in line."

Erik pushed her off of his lap and onto the couch. He started to tickle her and grab her sides. Poppy started laughing so hard that she couldn't breathe. She tried pushing his hands away but he kept tickling her. Poppy began to yell for him to stop, because she couldn't stop laughing. Erik was still laughing a little when he stopped.

When she was breathing normally again, Erik brushed her hair out of her face.

"That was uncalled for. Paybacks are a bitch."

Erik chuckled, "So they are." He stood up, "Come. We have many things to prepare for."

**Sorry about making Poppy a little preachy. But Erik was a bit unsure and some times one has to sit down and point out the facts to him. Erik's a genius, but not truly so when it comes to stepping out into the world to face people. Like me. (in a small voice) but I like my dark little corner. **


	44. Chapter 44

**Chapter 44**

**Aren't I sweet? 2 chappies in one day! Well one last night, and the other early this morning. No wise cracks here so I'll just get on with the chapter.**

The next morning, the whole opera company was called to the Grand Foyer. They had gotten the news that Firmin and Andre had resigned as mangers, and had instated a new one. They fidgeted and whispered among themselves. Firmin and Andre came out from their office. "Ladies and Gentlemen, we are here to inform you, that though we still own the Opera Populaire, we are no longer your mangers."

Confused muttering rose.

"Quiet! Quiet please!" André raised his hand, "it is my…pleasure…. to introduce your new manger… Monsieur Erik Leroux."

Madame Giry was a bit taken back from this. The night before, Erik and Poppy had told him what happened. She hadn't truly believed them, but this conformed it. She watched as Erik and Poppy came out from the office. Erik seemed to hesitate a little, until she saw Poppy place a hand on his arm and smile reassuring at him. He gathered his self and again became imposing. When Mme. Giry looked up at him, it at first seemed that he wasn't wearing his mask, and then saw that one of his white masks have been painted. The company took one look and panic broke out.

Cries of ' That's the Phantom!' and other such was called out.

Erik watched them with disapproval. He shot a glace at Poppy. She was trying to hide the smirk that was threatening to show its self. Firmin shot a worried glace at him. "Good luck." He whispered to Erik. Then nudging André, they hurried down the stairs and out the doors.

Erik watched them go. His eyes then turned to the company down below him. They had quieted down and were staring up at him fearfully.

"Just tell them what you expect and the rest will come naturally."

He turned to Poppy. She smiled up at him. "Go on."

Erik turned back to the people. Taking a deep breath he began, "These are my expectations. One: I will not allow slacking. If you wish to continue your career here at the Opera Populaire, you will work hard. You will find that I am fair as long as you are trying."

His calm, firm voice shocked them into silence. Mme. Giry stepped forward, "What do you want us to do about the burned auditorium? Opera productions will not be able to be preformed until that is fixed."

Erik nodded, "I am quite aware of that." he pulled a binder of paper out from under his cloak, and people were reminded of the Valentine's Masque. "Monsieur Dufour?"

A middle aged man stepped forward hesitantly. "Y-yes Monsieur?"

"You are the head carpenter are you not?"

"Yes Monsieur, for 20 years now."

"I know. Good. These here are the plans and directions to fix the stage and seats. I want them done correctly, and soon. The longer you wait, the harder it will be to fix the stage."

Dufour took the binder. "Now go. If there is any trouble, do not hesitant to come to me if you have questions." Erik instructed him.

"Yes Monsieur", he turned to the rest of the workers under him, "Come. We have work to do." The workers slinked out behind Dufour.

Then he turned to Mme. Giry. "As before, you are in charge of the Ballet Croups. Make sure that they know their _temps de cuisses_. They need work."

Mme. Giry gave a slight smile and a nod. "Come. You heard him. They _do_ need work." With that, she ushered the girls out of the room.

Erik then turned his criticizing eye on Carlotta. She had been staring at him all the time fearfully. The words that Poppy had told her came back at her. "_You **should **be glad he even thought of you. After all, he did put you in his Opera."_ Now she was afraid he would turn her completely out.

What he did surprised everyone. "Signora Carlotta Giudicelli. If you wish to remain at _my_ opera house, you will learn to listen. Your voice is good, but you use too much vibrato. Monsieur Reyer will help you to use your voice properly. Is that right Monsieur Reyer?"

Monsieur Reyer stuttered, but finally nodded.

"Signor Ubaldo Piangi will join you as soon as he is feeling better." Erik added, shooting a crooked apologetic half-smile at the bandaged man.

Piangi grumbled and rubbed his sore head, but nodded.

Erik stared down at the shocked people. "You still here? Go!" At the hard command they scattered. Erik took Poppy by the hand and led her into the offices. Once inside Erik shut the door and rubbed his temples. Poppy smiled understanding at his groan. "It was not so bad was it?"

"Not as bad as I expected. They were not as bad as I had imaged that they would be." Erik admitted.

"I think the mask helped."

Erik took her in his arms. "I have thought of doing that once, but I just never tried it. I'm glad you thought of it."

Poppy shook her head, "It was not truly my idea. It came from the book. The white mask would have been a bit too shocking for them…." Poppy was cut off when Erik leaned in and kissed her.

"Thank you for not talking me out of it." Erik grinned, knowing how she'll react.

Her eyes went wide, "Talk you out of it!" she scoffed, "I believe _Monsieur_ _Egotistical Male, _that it was the other way around!"

Erik just laughed and kissed her again.

**Awwwwwww! Was that not sweet! See I told you that I had and still have surprises up my sleeves. **


	45. Chapter 45

Chapter 45 

**Tired.**

Poppy was awakened to someone shaking her. She groaned and waved her hand, rolling over. A few minutes later, they were shaking her again. This time Poppy growled, "What?"

"Mon Dieu, child! You are a heavy sleeper!"

Poppy finally woke up enough to think clearly. Mme. Giry was the one shaking her. "Please. Me and Erik were up late last night. We were organizing the files. Firmin and Andre were so unorganized. Why are you getting me up so early?"

Mme. Giry smiled, "It is one in the afternoon."

Poppy shot up. "One! I have never sleep that late! Why didn't anyone get me up earlier?"

"Erik said to let you sleep. Now come. You and I have a few things to do."

Poppy climbed out of bed and started to get dressed. "Things to do? Like what?"

Mme. Giry just smiled and waited. When Poppy was dressed, Mme. Giry led her up the tunnels to the Opera House. Then surprising Poppy, led her out the front doors.

"What are we doing?" Poppy inquired.

Mme. Giry laughed. "Has it been so busy this past week that you have forgotten your own wedding?"

Poppy was horrified. She had forgotten! Ever since Erik became manger last week, they both had been really busy. Things were just starting to run smoothly. The Opera's company had been scared to death of him. But Poppy kept reassuring them, and Erik's head for business and his patience had them relaxing and they began to trust him. They had begun to fall into a more organized pattern.

"I have forgotten! How could I forget?"

Mme. Giry smiled, "Erik thought you may have. That's way he told me to take you out and get you ready."

Poppy didn't say anything. She was too busy brooding. She continued to do so after Mme. Giry flagged a carriage down. Twenty minutes later, they came to a jerking stop. Leading Poppy inside, Mme Giry told the woman in charge of the store to bring out samples of cloth.

"Where are we exactly?" Poppy asked coming out of her brooding mood.

"We are in a seamstress shop. We are having you fitted."

"Fitted? Oh. Stupid me." Poppy flashed an embarrassed smile at Mme. Giry. "This is all so new for me. I never thought I would ever get married. Not many men would want a blind wife. Few in my time. Fewer here." Poppy's voice dropped low so that only Mme. Giry could hear her.

"Erik's a special man. He sees how hard you work each day, despite that you are blind. You don't use your blindness as an excuse."

Poppy started to reply when the woman came back. Over the next few hours, Poppy played dummy and doll for the two older women. Finally, a pattern and idea was formed and the order was placed. Poppy walked out the store, bruised and sore. When they got back to the Opera House, Erik was waiting.

"How did it go?"

Poppy glared at him, "I think that if I drink anything right now, you could replace a fountain with me. I am so full of pinholes, water would leak out."

Erik tried not to laugh, but he couldn't hold it. Poppy glared at him, which made him laugh harder.

"Go on. Laugh. But Mme. Giry tells me you have yet to get your suit ready. Then _I_ get to stand back and laugh." With that threat over his head, Poppy gave a mean little smile and walked off, leaving Erik to stare after her and Mme. Giry chuckling at _him_.

**Oh, the joys of preparing for a wedding! **


	46. Chapter 46

**Chapter 46**

**Ohhh I feel mean! I feel so mean! I feel so mean and cruel! **

Poppy walked onto the stage where Erik was having a field day with Carlotta. He was trying to teach her not to belt to notes out. That she could still be loud and have melody.

"No! You are closing your throat! It's surprising that you have not strained your voice all those years of singing. Now try again." He played a few bars. Carlotta sang. Almost at once Erik causes the piano's notes to crash. Both Poppy and Carlotta winced as he began to not quite yell at her. "Madame! You are still straining! Open your throat, relax your vocal cords. You are putting to much stress on them."

"Monsieur. It is very hard for me. I have always sung like this. I cannot change overnight." Carlotta wined.

Before Erik could say anything else, Poppy made her way over to them. She placed a hand on Erik's shoulder. "She is right for once, Erik. You can't un- teach years of bad singing with only a few instructions."

Carlotta beamed but then looked confused, "Thank you…I think."

Poppy just smirked.

Erik covered her hand with his. "You are right, _Cuquelicot_. Madame, try again. But sing with out tightening your throat." Again, Erik played the few bars. Everyone looks up as Carlotta hits a perfect high note. She stops and looks at Erik amazed. He just gave her a smug look. "Now that you know not to force the notes from your throat, you well be able to sing better. Since you knew the basics, you don't need me anymore. Reyer will work with you more. Piangi has his accent under control. He can now sing more clearly. Now if you excuse me, I have other businesses to attend to."

Erik got up from the bench and walked up to Poppy. "Come, you need a break. I have something to show you." Poppy took his hand and led him up to the boxes. She was thankful that she brought her cane. She knew her way around most of the opera house, but some places she didn't know so well. Like the boxes. So, she tapped her way up to Box five. "Well Erik, I'm sure that even though you're the manger, you wouldn't want to sit in the mangers box."

They came to the box. "Look there." Poppy pointed to the sign over the door. The box number was still there, but it now had a silver plaque, that said _"le fantom's box"_

Erik just shook his head. "What brought this on?"

Poppy smiled, "I just made your box official. They told me that this is the best seat in the house. Why give it up? You just don't have to sneak in there now."

"You sure?" With that, he grabbed her and pulled her inside. Wrapping her in a tight hug, he just held her. She hugged him back, listening to their hearts beating as one. She began to hum. She then started singing softy.

_"If I had to live my life with out you near me… the days would all be empty… the nights would seem so long… with you I see forever oh so clearly, I might have been in love before… but It never felt this strong…our dreams are young and we both know they'll take us were we want to go…hold me now…touch me now… I don't want to live with out you…nothing's gonna change my love for you… you ought by now how much I love you…one thing you can be sure of I'll never ask for more then your love…. Nothing's gonna change my love for you…you ought by now how much I love you…the world may change my whole life though….But nothing's gonna change my love for you…if the road ahead is not so easy…our love will lead the way for us… like a guilding star…I'll be there for you if you should need me… you don't have to change a thing…I love you just the way you are… so come with me and share the view… I'll help you see forever to… hold me now… touch me now… I don't want to live with out you… nothing's gonna change my love for you…you ought by now how much I love you… one thing you can be sure of I'll never ask for more then your love…. Nothing's gonna change my love for you… you ought by now how much I love you… the world may change my whole life though….But nothing's gonna change my love for you…"_

Before Erik could say anything, Poppy reached up and gave him a kiss, running her sensitive fingers along his face. They traveled along his strong jaw, his cheek bones, though his soft hair. She brought her fingers back down to his mask. Poppy ran her fingertips across it, tracing the lines in it. She sighed placed her hand fully on the cold mask and leaned in again and kissed him.

"I wish you could see how handsome you are."

Her hand was still on his mask, so she knew that he shook his head. "No, I'm not. I know very well what I look like."

Poppy dropped her hand. "I'm not going to argue with you today. But I'll tell you this… a blind person can see better then one with sight. Sit here…close your eyes…. and look deep inside yourself." With that, Poppy flashed him a smile, and turned to make her way out of the box.

Erik set down, thinking what she had just told him. When she had started tracing his face, he had closed his eyes. Even when her gentle fingers traveled to his mask, he had been relaxed. He trusted her. She knew how he would react if she had tried to pull it off. He stayed in the box for the next few hours. When he came back out, he found that the Mm. Giry was uneasy. "What's wrong?" Erik asked.

"I'm worried about Poppy. She said she had to fetch a few things that she had forgotten down in the lair. That was a few hours ago. She has not returned. I'm worried about her."

Fear coursed though Erik. "There are only two tunnels she'll take. You take the north one; I'll search the southern one. Go! Now!"

They spilt up. Erik took the one that was by the Rat's dorm rooms. He was halfway though the tunnel when he came upon her. She was lying on her back. Her red hair pooled around her head like blood. As he walked closer, he noticed the stones were wet with water. That was wrong. The tunnel was always dry. He looked down and though the torch's light saw that the water was actually blood. A cold chill went up his spine. Knelling down beside Poppy, he saw that her eyes were closed. He touched her cheek, it was cold, but he could see that she was breathing, but only faintly. Erik could also see that her head was laying in a pool of blood. Trying not to panic, Erik gently picked her up, and then hurried the rest of the way to the lair.

When Mme. Giry got to the lair from searching the other tunnel, she saw Erik rushing about the lair.

"Erik! What's wrong!"

"I found her. She must have fell in the tunnel…." He paused, "Antoinette, she hit her head. Hard."

She went into Poppy's room. She was laying in bed, cloth wrapped around her head. Erik came though the door holding a bowl, gauze, ointment, scissors, and a needle and thread. He handed her the items. Taking the cloth off, Mme. Giry saw a large gash on the side of her head. For the next hour Erik carefully cleaned and stitched the wound. When they were done, Mme. Giry saw that Poppy was looking bad. She must have lost a lot of blood. Her skin was too white, and when she laid a hand on her forehead, it was cold. Mme. Giry looked over at Erik. He has not said a thing. His hair was in disarray, and he looked tried. Antoinette hoped that Poppy pulled though, for her and Erik.

**I know. I know. That was mean. I hope to have the next chapter out tomorrow, but I am very sick right now. And it is not wise to walk two miles to the library, in the snow, when you are hacking your lungs up. But, I'll try. **


	47. Chapter 47

Chapter 47 

**Mean wasn't I? Bet you all are ready to kill me huh? **

Later that night Mme. Giry walked up the cold tunnel to the opera house. Poppy was still not looking any better. She looked pasty and was cold to the touch, barely breathing. After Erik had taken care of her head, they both piled the blankets on her. Antoinette had wanted to go fetch a doctor, but Erik told her that a doctor would make it worse, not better. She sighed, but knew he was right. When Mme. Giry left, Erik had pulled a chair up beside Poppy's bed, took her hand in his, and just set there, waiting for her to move. Antoinette had put a hand on his shoulder, feeling for him, but he didn't acknowledge it.

Walking to her room, Antoinette was met by her daughter.

"Mother?"

"Yes?" Mme. Giry sighed.

"Where are Mademoiselle Poppy and Monsieur Leroux? They did not show for the afternoon call. Monsieur Reyer and Monsieur Dufour both have been asking for them," Meg inquired.

Mme. Giry didn't need the news to be spread yet, "They are busy with some other business. _You_ need to get to bed. Now go!"

Meg looked questionly at her but hurried off to the dorms. Mme. Giry sighed. Walking into her room she fingered her crucifix that she kept in her pocket. Erik hated the sight of them, so she never wore it in his presence. He had always mocked people and their beliefs, but he will need to do some praying his self for a miracle. For a miracle is the only thing that can save Poppy.

XXX

Erik held Poppy's cold hand. He could see her barely breathing. He was truly worried. He was great in curing almost any illness or physical injury. He had to be. No one else had taken care of him, hence, he had to learn it his self. But in all his years of seeing and inflicting injuries, Erik had never seen one with a head injury such as Poppy had and still live. If he lost her, he wouldn't know what to do. As he rubbed her cold hand, he felt the cold metal of the ring he had given her the night of _Don Juan_. The night he asked her to marry him. The night she had agreed. Because she loved him. Tears dripped onto his and Poppy's hand. He began to do something he never thought he would do. He began to pray.

"I know I have always denied You. Never had I prayed to You. But now I'm praying. Please God…please…help Poppy. If it were I, I wouldn't be worth saving. But it is she here. She has gone though so much, she is worth saving. I love her. Please…help her." Erik choked out the last words, a sob catching in his throat.

XXX

Over the next week, the Opera House slowed down to a tick. Mme. Giry had Reyer to run it. He hated doing it, so he had the orchestra to practice on their own, as he worked with Carlota and Piangi. They both were sounding much better. Carlota would want to slip back in her old diva routine, but Mme. Giry and Reyer would remind her about Erik.

Everyone now knew about Poppy. They all were praying and were worried. Mme. Giry would take the daily trip down to the lair to check on Erik and Poppy. Erik almost never left her side. Antoinette would bring food and force Erik to eat. In turn, they both forced broth down Poppy's throat. Poppy was not looking good. She remanded unconscious. She was growing whiter and stayed cold. Her once ruby red hair shone, but now it was thin and dull, as her body grew thin. Erik was not looking any better. He had grown thinner as well.

One day Mme. Giry finally forced Erik away from Poppy for a while. As she brushed Poppy's thin hair, she talked to her.

"Come back Poppy. Come back. If you could only see how much Erik needs you. Every day that you lie here, Erik slowly dies. Please come back _cherie_."

**Je n'aiaucun mot. I'm sorry, but I have reason for doing this. But, don't worry all ends well. **


	48. Chapter 48

Chapter 48 

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Phantom of the Opera.**

**You all ready to kill me now? I don't blame you, but before you do, read the next few chapters. Then if you still want to kill me… well I ask for you to be brief. **

Poppy walked down the tunnel. She needed to get some documents that she and Erik had been working on late last night. As she walked down the tunnel, she hummed softly. Suddenly she heard a squeak and felt a rat run across her feet. She let out a gasp and jumped back. She was not scared of them, he had just surprised her. Jumping back her heel got caught in a small hole. She let out a small echoing yell, as she fell back. Poppy felt a blinding flash of pain and heard a crack as her head hit the stone ground.

When she opened her eyes, she _saw_ a grayish fog all around her. She staggered a little, for the first time in ten years she could see. Granted it was not much, but she saw something other then black.

"Hello? Someone?" her voice echoed all around her. Suddenly in front of her, the fog started to swirl into two tunnels. To her left she saw in the middle of it her laying in her bed in Erik's lair. For the first time, she saw him. She was right. He _was_ handsome. The white mask enhancing his dark looks. He was sitting by her side, holding her hand. She could very faintly hear him talk.

_"I know I have always denied You. Never had I prayed to You. But now I'm praying. Please God…please…help Poppy. If it were I, I wouldn't be worth saving. But it is she here. She has gone though so much, she is worth saving. I love her. Please…help her."_

Tears came to her eyes. He loved her. Poppy glanced in the other tunnel. She saw her self in a modern day hospital bed. Her head was bandaged, tubes hooked into her. There were flowers around, but no family. It didn't surprise her, but it still saddened her. Poppy then felt in her bones that she was being given a choice: go home, to her own time, or go back to Erik.

Home. She missed it at times, but she loved Erik. If she went home, she would leave Erik with a broken heart. If she went to Erik, no one at home would truly miss her. Poppy looked back at the tunnel with Erik. She saw that time had passed. Erik was looking bad. Sick. As was she in the bed. She was slowly dying, and it seemed Erik was as well. She then saw Mme. Giry come in and speak to him. Erik stood and walked away, tired. Poppy watched as Mme. Giry brushed her hair. Again, Poppy faintly heard some one talk to her. She realized it was Mme. Giry.

_"Come back Poppy. Come back. If you could only see how much Erik needs you. Every day that you lie here, Erik slowly dies. Please come back cherie."_

Again, Poppy glanced in the other tunnel. This time she saw her Mother and Father, in the room. Poppy saw her Father glace at his watch, then heard him speak faintly,

_"We have been here long enough. We are due at the Country Club."_

She saw her Mother nod, and then they both hurried out the room without a backward glance. Tears came to her eyes. Poppy made her choice then. Turning back to the tunnel to Erik, she began to walk forward.


	49. Chapter 49

Chapter 49 

**I hope that three chapters are apologetic enough for you all. I have been sick with a bad cold. I hadtold you all that I had some more surprises for you! Surprise! I also updated Eye for a Ghost as well. **

As Antoinette brushed Poppy's hair, her fingers brushed across her forehead. She stopped, and placed her hand fully on Poppy's head. Instead of the cold clammy feeling she had for the past week, it was now hot. For a minute Antoinette froze, just then Erik walked back in. She shook her self out of it.

"Erik? Feel her forehead. Please tell me it's hot."

Erik quickly placed his hand on Poppy's forehead. Wonder crossed his face, "She's starting to run a fever. She's going to get better." Tears came to his eyes. "She's going to get better."

Antoinette's own eyes teared up. Erik bent over Poppy, checking her breathing. It was coming a bit faster; her heart had sped up as well. Her face was also flushed as well. "She's going to get better, but she's not out of danger yet. Go get some sleep, I'll watch her tonight."

"You sure Erik? You need some sleep too," Antoinette inquired.

"I'll sleep later. You go."

She nodded. Then surprising them both, gave Erik a small hug. "Everything will be fine now." She gave him a small smile, then turned and headed up one of the tunnels.

Erik turned back to Poppy. Even though she now had a fever, there was the danger of it going too high. Right now, she was running a normal fever but it could turn any moment. He went and got a cool cloth. Retuning, he ran the white cotton over her forehead. Poppy let out small whimpers and moans. She was dreaming, which was good, after hitting her head. If she was dreaming, it meant her mind was still active. Erik placed a light kiss on her forehead. "Fight it _Cuquelicot_, fight it." He whispered.

XxX

The next morning Antoinette hurried back down to the lair to see how Poppy was doing. Erik was still beside her. "Any change?"

Erik's gold eyes met hers. He looked better, so was Poppy. Instead of looking pale and pasty, she now had some color. Granted, it was because she was flushed, but it was still a good sign. "She's still running the fever, but it has not raised. It should break soon. When it does, I well need your help." He gestured to a pile of sheets and a cotton chemise.

Mme. Giry nodded. When the fever broke, she would have to be changed in to dry clean sheets and clothes, or she could get really sick. When her fever broke, it was late that night. Antoinette had dozed in the chair as Erik watched Poppy. Then Erik had dozed as she watched her. Antoinette yawned, then turned her eyes back to Poppy. Sweat was glistening on her forehead. "Erik!"

Erik snapped awake, "What!"

"Her fever's broken!"

Relief flooded his face. Letting out a sigh, he laid another blanket on her. "When she stops sweating, we need to change her and the bed."

Mme. Giry nodded. Everything was going to be fine. Poppy was going to be fine. They waited and watched her until she stopped sweating. It was near five the next morning, when she stopped. Together they gently rolled Poppy so that they could change the sweat-drenched sheets. When they had the sheets smoothed, Antoinette shooed Erik out of the room, so that she could change Poppy. She pulled off the wet chemise and pulled the dry one over her head, gently. Erik had been changing the bandages everyday and applying ointment. The gash on the back of Poppy's head was healing nicely. Antoinette pulled her long hair into a lose braid. When she let Erik back in, Poppy was sleeping peacefully.

Erik nodded. "Thank you so much Antoinette. Poppy means so much to me, that I would have gone mad if we had lost her," he brushed a stay hair out of Poppy's face. " It is a healing sleep now"

"I was my pleasure Erik. She is like a second daughter. You deserve her, she deserves you. I thank whatever fates allowed her to slip though time. She will be a good wife."

Erik nodded, his eyes closed.

"I need to go. But I'll be back down later. Make sure she drinks plenty of water," Antoinette paused, "What should I tell the Opera Company?"

Erik thought for a minute. "Tell them to carry on. I'll try to be up there within the next few days."

Mme. Giry nodded. She then headed back up to the Opera House, a huge weight lifted up off her chest.

Erik looked back at Poppy. She was indeed looking better. Her face now had true color. Her hair was still thin and dull. But, that will soon change. Walking over to the bed, he gazed down at her. She still looked so weak. Erik sighed and sat down on the bed with her, and gently pulled her thin body close.


	50. Chapter 50

**Chapter 50**

**Chapter 50? Wow! Well, here it is, the chapter that everyone is waiting for… at least on of them.**

Later the next morning, Erik was awaken by a small groan. He opened his eyes to see Poppy brush her a strand of hair out of her face. Her eyes were still closed. She dropped her hand weakly. "Er-ik?" her voice was crackly and raspy but it was the most beautiful sound to him.

"Here, _Cuquelicot."_ Erik lightly tightened his hold on her. Relief was flooding his mind. She was awake. He had almost lost her.

Poppy struggled to get the next few words out, "Can…I…have some water?"

"Of course." Erik eased up and got her the water. When he came back, her eyes were opened. The white orbs staring blinding at the ceiling. "Poppy?"

Her head turned slightly and gave him a small smile. "It's… good… to hear… your voice." She whispered.

"Shh. You're still very weak. Don't talk any more then you have to." Erik told her as he propped her up slightly, and helped her hold the cup. When he put the cup aside and turned back, she was asleep. Kissing her cheek, Erik left the room. He walked out into the main part of his lair and stared out at the water. He was tired, but in a way that he didn't mind. Poppy was awake. It will still be awhile before she could move and get her old strength back, but they would work at it. As he stood there, he didn't notice Antoinette come around the corner.

"Erik?"

He turned to see her. A smile came across his face. "She was awake just a few minutes ago."

Mme. Giry's eyes widened, "She was awake?"

Erik nodded, "Yes. She asked for some water then fell asleep again." He sighed, exhausted.

Mme. Giry saw this. "Erik, you need some sleep. Go to your own room, and sleep. I'll watch over Poppy. We don't need you sick too." When Erik tried to protest, Mme. Giry pinned him with her gray eyes and pointed to his room. "Go to bed, Erik."

He sighed, defeated. Like a child he walked to his room to get, some unwanted but needed sleep. Sighing, he laid down in his bed. Sleep didn't wait long. As soon as his head touched the pillow, he was asleep.

Antoinette watched him go, and then went to Poppy's room. She was indeed looking better. Sitting down in the chair, Antoinette softly talked to her. Telling her how happy they wore that she was getting better, how even Carlotta sends her concerns.

"We all miss you. So sleep. Get well." Antoinette whispered to her.

**Yes! Poppy is going to get better! See, I'm not that cruel.**


	51. Chapter 51

Chapter 51 

Over the course of the next three days, Poppy started to stay awake longer. After the third day, Erik 'allowed' her to sit up. She had been getting sick of the damn bed and wanted to move, but he didn't want her to over tire her self. She hated being helpless, and a bother, but both Antoinette and Erik assured her that she wasn't. Antoinette was overjoyed when she was there when Poppy had woken up for the second time. The hard-hearted Ballet Mistress had hugged Poppy. She had to calm her down, tears in her own eyes, as she remembered the two visions. The one of her in her own time, no one there. Then the one of her in this bed, being taken care of by two people, that loved her. After Antoinette had left, Erik had checked her bandage around her head, after he did, he held her and cried. Telling her how much he loved her. It was then, Poppy realized that she had undeniably made the right choice.

XxX

"Erik. I'm sick of this bed. Can I get up today?"

Erik looked at her head carefully, it was almost fully healed. Yesterday, he had taken the stitches out, as Poppy gritted her teeth. "Yes. I was going to let you start walking. If you stay in bed for too long it will be harder for your leg muscles to work properly. But we will take it slow," He warned.

"Yes, oh _docteur_, " Poppy said sarcastically.

Erik smiled, glad to have her fully aware. "Glad to see that your wicked mouth is still working."

Poppy just grinned cheekily. "Can I get up now?"

"Just a minute." Erik walked to the side of the bed and took both her hands. "Now, you can, but go slowly."

Poppy nodded, and pulled her self out of bed, using Erik's hands for support. She slowly stood on shaking legs. Almost at once, she collapsed, Erik caching her. He steadied her back on her feet. After she caught her breath, she began to try towalk, Erik holding her shoulders. After a few shaky rounds of walking around the room, he guided her back to the bed.

As she set back down, she brushed her hand across Erik's left cheek. She hadn't told him about her visions, and wasn't sure she should or shouldn't. "Erik. I want to apologize."

"For what?" Erik opened his eyes, as he had closed them as she touched his cheek.

"For being such a bother. For causing you to worry."

He gathered her in his arms, "You haven't been a bother. It wasn't your fault. Things like that happen."

Poppy nodded, "I have something to tell you." He needed to know. At what had happened, and the choice she made.

"Go ahead." He urged gently.

"I had indeed fell. When I was coming down to the lair I-" Poppy was interrupted when Mme. Giry walked into the room.

"Erik. I hate to intrude, but they are having problems up in the Opera house that can't be ignored. You will have to see to them this time."

Erik swore quietly, but he can't fault them truly.

Poppy's eyes widened, "You haven't been up there at all?"

"Non. I was too worried about you. You are to important to me then the Opera Populaire."

"Life goes on. Now that I'm better, you can go do you job." Then stroking his ego, "You do know that the Opera Populaire can't truly function without your greatness." She tried to hold back an smirk.

"You are being sarcastic."

"Oh no! I'm being truthful. Now go! I have Ayesha to keep me company." Poppy gestured to the sleeping cat at the end of the bed. "I tell you what I was going to tell you later tonight. Go on. Take care of them."

Erik sighed and stood, "I'll go, but you are to stay in this bed."

"I will. I am tried anyway."

Erik leaned in and gave her a small kiss. He then shot a glace at Mme. Giry and walked up the tunnel to the Opera house.

Poppy is back to her normal self! Yes, she is going to tell Erik what she saw. She has a feeling that she should. I'll have another chapter up maybe tomorrow or the next.


	52. Chapter 52

Chapter 52 

**Sorry for not updating this one sooner. Eye of a Ghost was calling and I had to answer. **

When Erik walked onto the stage where everyone was gathered, they all broke out talking at once. Erik just waited until the noise died down. "I apologize for not being here the past week. And I'm sure you all played around…"

Protests sounded all-round. "Quit!" Erik yelled, instantly the people fell silent, "I have watched you all for years. So I know all about that the moment you are not working or practicing, you all lounged around. But now that I'm back: playtime is over. You all will now have to work extra hard. Monsieur Reyer?"

The small man walked up, timid, "Y-yes Monsieur?"

"Have you been working on anything with the orchestra? Any at?" Erik's voice sounded slightly annoyed.

Reyer went pale, "N-no Monsieur."

Erik sighed. He best get them back on track, before anymore incidents happened. "Well, then. Don't you think you better solve that problem?"

"Y-yes Monsieur." He all but ran off.

Erik turned back to the rest of the Opera's company, "What are you all waiting for? I'll have a production for you all to perform soon, but in the mean time…work on weak spots. In you're dancing or singing." Erik looked each in the eye, "And I _know_ you all have some. Now go. Madame Carlotta? Stay right there. The rest of you go on." Erik walked up to Carlotta. She stared up at him fearfully. He stared back down at her, annoyance in his face and eyes. Normally when he ran the Opera and had to be around the company he wore a flesh colored mask. But, the one he was wearing at the moment was one of his infamous white masks. The sinister-looking porcelain in stark contrast to his intimating posture. "I believe I have told you once that if you wished to remain at _my_ opera house, you will learn to listen. You have not. I normally give second chances, but that the moment, we need all the singers we can get. But remember this, _Madame_, if you act up again, I will not think twice about it. Now go."

"Merci, Monsieur. I will remember." With her whispered apology given, she slunk off.

Erik sighed and walked to the offices. As much as he would like to go back to the lair, he truly needed to get the Opera house back in running order. When he got to the office Erik saw that he had a lot paperwork to file and fill. Mme. Giry he saw had tried to do some, but she was a Ballet Mistress, she only knew minor office work. So, for the next five hours he worked and filed the papers. As he worked, Erik ran though operas that the perfumers could put on. Not _Hannibal_. He had not been truly fond of it. There were too much armour, fabric, glitz,-all over-designed. The Opera house will never again see the likes of that opera again. Erik went over the past operas that had done well in the past. After _Don Juan_, no one needed anything that new right now. There was _Don Giovanni_, that was truly memorable; and than there was _The Magic Flute_-charmingly whimsical-amusing! But then the Opera house had not seen anything as good as _Faust_ for a while now. _Faust_ it was. it was half past ten when Erik got all affairs in order. Mme. Giry was waiting for him out side the door. He didn't say a word to her. Only handed her the directions that he wanted the cast to follow for the opera. She looked down at the opera he wanted, and smirked. _Faust_. It was his favorite. When she looked back up, he was gone. Antoinette took the directions to Reyer. He looked over them and got busy at assigning 1st and 2nds for Erik to approve.

XxX

After Erik had handed the papers to Antoinette, he took off back down to his lair. He had been worrying that Poppy had not listened to him and had fell again. Erik all but ran though the tunnels. He caused Poppy to jump when he hurried into her room.

Poppy had been dozing when Erik came though the door. "Erik? What's wrong?"

Erik breathed a sigh of relief, when he saw her propped of in the bed and not on the floor. "I have been worrying all day that you have not listened and that you got up."

Poppy's white eyes flashed, "Are you sating that you don't trust me? That I would want a repeat of a busted skull?"

She was in one of her moods. Erik saw that he would have to tread carefully. "I trust you. But it was only because that I love you, caused me to worry."

"I'm sorry I snapped. But you try being stuck in a bed all day." Poppy patted the bed, "Come and sit. Tell me…were they all running around like chickens with their heads cut off?"

Erik set down as he gave her a strange look, "I'll pretend I understood that. But they were indeed unorganized." He then told her about the rest of the day, telling her which opera her choose for them. She laughed about the warning he gave Carlotta and how Reyer shook.

"Poppy. Before I went up to the Opera house, you were going to tell me something?" Erik reminded her after she was done laughing.

Poppy's face grew serious, "Erik, I don't really believe in the supernatural or the life before death or after death. Nor the pre-death BS. But something happened, that I can't explain. As I was telling you, I had indeed came down here to get a few things. I tripped and fell, hitting my head. When I opened my eyes, I could see. I could see Erik. For the first time in ten years I could see!" She paused; Erik took her hand and waited for her to go on. "Granted it was not much, only a grayish fog. Then I don't know how to explain it, but in front of me, two tunnels began to swirl. When I looked in them, I saw to my right me. I was in a hospital bed. It was in my own time. But, I was alone. There was no one. In the left tunnel, " again Poppy paused, "I saw me. But instead of a modern day hospital bed, I saw that I was in this bed here. And unlike in the other tunnel, I saw people around me. You Erik. I saw you."

Erik froze. She had seen him. Only a few frightened words came out of his mouth, "you saw me?"

Poppy nodded, "yes. But before you say anything else, let me tell you…it didn't change my feelings for you. Besides, I have already seen you with my hands. You are not repulsive. Quite the opposite." Before Poppy got any more out, Erik lead forward and hesitantly took her in his arms. Poppy relaxed, as Erik did the same. He held her like that for a while.

"Go on and finish," Erik whispered to her.

Poppy nodded and began again, "I felt that I was being given a choice: go home, to my own time, or come back to here. I came back here. No one will truly miss me in my own time."

"What about your parents? Surly…"

Poppy started to cry, "I saw them! They didn't care! It was a chore for them to even come see me. They never truly loved me! I was an object to them. A doll, to show off to their friends! I went though the tunnel back here. To you. For I love you."

Erik let her cry; she didn't cry often, she needed to cry. "I love you too, _Cuquelicot_. But there is something that I don't truly understand. If you saw two of yourselves, what happened to your body in your own time?"

Poppy dried her eyes, "I'm not sure. My guess would be that, my other body might have died. Or that time was rewritten. Overall, I don't care. I'm where I want to be…here with you."

In response, Erik held her tighter. Poppy snuggled down in his arms and they both slowly fell asleep, enjoying each other warmth and love.

**Aww, how sweet. So sweet, I think I'm getting a toothache. I well not be able to update tomorrow. The library will be closed. Sorry. But on Tuesday, I'll have some more chapters. **


	53. Chapter 53

**Chapter 53**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Phantom of the Opera. **

Slowly Poppy got stronger. Over the course of the week, Mme. Giry helped her strengthen her leg muscles. She would run Poppy though ballet exercises. At first, it was painful, moving and stretching her muscles that hadn't been truly moved in a week and half. But Poppy didn't complain. She wanted to get stronger, she was sick to death of the bed. Erik now allowed her to move around the lair, but didn't deem that she was ready to go back up to the Opera house. They were closer then ever after, Poppy had told Erik of the near death experience choice she had. They also decided that there was no need to tell anyone else about it. It confused even Erik, so they tried not to think too much onto it.

When Erik was not down in the lair with Poppy, he was up in the Opera House. Now that he was back, it was running smoothly. Reyer had been driving the orchestra to their limits. In doing so, they were perfect. There were no wrong notes played, no squeaky horns. They were beautiful sounding to the ears. Reyer and the musicians beamed with pride when Erik observed them one day and made no criticizing remark. They learned that if he doesn't say anything, they were doing great. He had told them, that to apprise too much, made one sloppy, but he did tell them that if they continued to sound as good as they have been, they would be the one of the best orchestra in France.

Carlotta and Piangi were both easy on the ears now. One could understand what they were singing. Carlotta was still the lead diva, but was kept in check by Erik. He didn't put up with her acting up. Besides, within that year, she was going to retire. Even she was stating to admit she was getting too old. She had told Erik this, she was returning to Italy with Piangi. He wanted to return home. His father was dying and Piangi had to take over the family business. Plus Piangi still held a grudge against Erik for hitting him over the head. Erik had smiled and wished them luck.

The Ballet Rats was another thing. Erik had moved Meg Giry up to leader. The girl was not that bright, but she was a wonderful dancer. It was the only change Erik made before he turned control over to Antoinette. He could hardily stand to be around the chattering girls. Once they had gotten over them being scared of him, and the fact that he was the one they had once told stories about, they were always giggling about him. Some of them even developed crushes. One day after shooing them off, he turned to Mme. Giry to see her smirking. He threw up his hands and told her that she now had full control over them.

XXX

It was the opening night for _Faust._ Erik had been avoiding telling Poppy. He wanted it to be a surprise. He had decided that she was strong enough to now come back up to the Opera house. When he had deemed that every thing was going fine, he went down to the lair. Poppy was sitting on the couch trying to embroider. Mme. Giry had taught her, for something to do. Poppy loved it, but had no talent for it. It had nothing to do with her eyesight. Mme. Giry had assured Erik that many blind women did it. They would use their fingers to guild them. And Poppy did just that. When she had first started, she pocked her self with the needle countless times. Now she didn't jab her fingers no more, but it still proved interesting to watch her.

"Shit!"

Erik watched as Poppy backtracked and picked out a mis-stitch. "Language, _Cuquelicot_,"

He laughed.

Poppy jumped, "Erik! You are down here early. Is everything alright?"

"Yes, everything's fine. But come with me for the moment."

Poppy put her embroidery aside. "Ok. But are you sure you're fine? You sound anxious." She picked up her cane, and walked over to him.

Erik took her by the hand and led her up the tunnel, "Everything is fine. I just have something you should see."

Erik led her up the tunnel and back stage. Everyone was rushing around, doing last minute preparations. Meg was the first one to notice. "Poppy!"

People all stopped what they were doing and rushed over. Poppy was lost in a sea of people. After a few minutes of this Erik told them to back off.

"It's so good to see you again Mademoiselle Poppy. I hope you will think of singing again?" Reyer asked.

"I haven't thought of that. I'm not sure. I'll have to talk to Erik about that." She was wondering the same thing herself.

Carlotta surprised her by greeting her. "Piacere? You are feeling better?"

Poppy flashed a friendly smile at her, "Si, grazie. Thank you."

"She'll be up here now more often. You all can talk to her later. Right now you all have a opera to put on." Erik told them gently.

As they all moved away, Poppy turned to Erik. "An Opera? The Opera house is back up and running?"

"Yes. They are to perform _Faust_." Catching her smirk, "What?"

"I should have guessed."

"Am I that easy to predict?" Erik inquired.

Poppy just grinned, "At times."


	54. Chapter 54

Chapter 54 

Poppy was on the stage, working with Reyer on her part for _Faust_ a week later. She never knew singing in a foreign language was so hard. She was able to speak French, but she was having trouble with the songs in the language. Carlotta and Piangi had left. That meant Poppy had Carlotta's part as Marguerite. Erik had instated a shy young promising tenor, Armand le Notaire as the lead. And Poppy was the unwilling diva. She was scared of the stage right now. After _Don Juan_, she wanted no part, but Erik talked her into it. She figured that she was scared because of that night, but, she the remembered the old phrase, if you fall off the horse, the thing to do was get back on. So that's what she was doing, riding the horse again. But at the moment, the horse was bucking.

"Once more, Mam'selle. You know the song. You only need to sing it in French," Reyer instructed.

Poppy sighed and began again,

_"Ah! Je ris de me vor Si belle en ce miroir!… Ah! Je ris de me vor Si belle en ce miroir… Est-ce toi, Marguerite, Est-ce toi….."_

She finally got it right. Reyer congratulated her, sending her on her way. Sighing once more, she headed up to the offices. It was around noon, so Erik would be in the office. She knocked on the door.

"Come in."

Poppy walked in and set down in a chair by an open window. Spring was here in Paris, and Poppy was enjoying the fresh air that blew in gently.

Erik had stopped writing when she came in. she flashed him a smile then set down in the chair and turn her face toward the window. Her ruby red hair was down, so the slight breeze ruffled her baby fine hair. She had been upset with him the past few days. She hadn't wanted to get up on the stage, but he had talked her into it. He knew why Poppy hadn't wanted to sing again: she was scared, though like him, would never mention such a thing. Erik had seen it before. As soon as she sings again, she'll lose her fear. He stood and walked silently up behind her. He picked up a silky lock of hair and let it run though his long fingers. Poppy turned her face up to face him. "How did practice go with Reyer go?"

She shrugged, "Great this time. I think I have the songs down pat. Speaking French is one thing, singing it, another."

Erik nodded, "And how is practice with Armand?"

Poppy felt a wicked bone rise, "He's very nice. I'll really enjoy singing with him. He has good voice. And Meg told me that he is really handsome." She gave Erik a grin as she heard him draw a sharp breath.

"Is that so?" he gritted out betweenhis teeth.

Poppy laughed as she stood. She placed a hand on his smooth left cheek, "I'm playing. True, he's nice, but who am I to take away Meg's crush?"

Erik covered her hand with his own, "Meg?"

Poppy chuckled, "Yep. She really likes him, and he likes her, but is too shy to say any thing." She leaned in and gave him a kiss, "No one can compare to you though, you are the one I 'see' and love. No one will ever take me away." She then pulled her hand away, "So, what were you doing?"

Erik walked back to the desk. "Getting some affairs in order for our trip."

"Trip?"

Erik shot an amused glace at her, "You have forgotten again?"

Poppy flushed with embarrassment and nodded, "You know in my time it was usually the men that forgot."

Erik just shook his head, "And I bet they took their marriage vows lightly as well?"

"Sadly, yes. It is not the same here?"

"I wouldn't know…"

"Sorry."

"It's fine. But from what is seen some do, but not many."

"So, where were you planning for us to go?" Poppy asked as she moved the chair to the front of the desk.

"I was going to let you decide."

"I not sure. I have been to few places, but never truly enjoyed them." She thought, "Flip a coin? Heads Carolina? Tails California?" When Erik made a confused sound, "Sorry. It was from a song. We don't really have to go anywhere. We can stay right here."

Erik was surprised, "You sure?"

Poppy smiled, "I'm sure. It doesn't matter. I'll go were you want to go."

"Well, that is taken care of. I believe your dress is also finished. Not much is there to do. We can be wed in a week?" Erik thought out loud.

Poppy stood and walked around the desk and stood beside him.

"Well, we must leave enough time for you to get jabbed by pins." Poppy giving him a sly smile. "I have already been though that. It's your turn now."

"I have that taken care of as well. It's already happened. I now understand what you meant that day."

Poppy laughed, "And I missed it? Did Mme. Giry go?"

"She was to one who drug me there."

Poppy smiled, "I'll have to get details from her then."

"You will not." Erik warned, "Since the guests will most likely be just the some of the company, we can be wed at the Madeleine. I know it's not the big wedding most girls dream of, but…"

She shook her head and gave him a soft kiss that he quickly deepened. She pulled back, breathless.

"It will be fine. Small is better." She ran a soft hand across his smooth jaw, "I have some errands to do. See you later." Poppy turned and started to walk out the door when Erik called to her.

"You will not go down the tunnel." Another thing he had forbid her to do was go down to the lair by her self. He even had the opera's company to watch and make sure she didn't try.

"I won't," She rolled her eyes.

"And don't go searching for Antoinette just to interrogate her on behalf of my fitting."

"I won't." with that she disappeared out the door.

Erik set at the desk. Suddenly he jumped up, "Poppy!" and he ran out the door after her.

**Ha, ha, ha. Next chapter: wedding bells!**


	55. Chapter 55

Chapter 55 

**I can hear the bells.**

**Jack: Des, are you all right?**

**Well, don't you hear them chime?**

**Jack: I don't hear anything.**

**(Sighs) Well, you are no fun.**

**Jack: I never claimed to be.**

**Party-pooper. Well, the day you all waited for is here! Poppy's and Erik's wedding day! (sly grin) and wedding night….**

**Jack: Let's see if she survives it.**

**Bad joke. Of course, she'll survive it. What do you expect to happen?**

**Jack: I was talking about you. You and me both know how you are with the love scenes. (Points to authoress) She barely can write them. You all were lucky the past scenes came out good. She was lucky that I was there to help.**

**(thunks skeleton on head) You aren't any better then me! (Watches as he chases his head)**

**Jack:(places head on shoulders) On with the story! **

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**Sorry about that. Blame it on the candy. Sad thing is; I hate candy. **

**Disclamer: I don't own the Phantom of the Opera**

The week before the wedding dragged by for both Erik and Poppy. Erik threw his self into his work to try to pass the time quicker. It didn't work. Poppy sang as much as she could to rid her self of her nervousness. Mme. Giry was ready to tear out her hair. Both of them were driving her crazy. Erik kept wondering if Poppy was going to change her mind. Poppy was quiet, but fidgeted all the time. The day before the wedding, Antoinette took Poppy to get her dress. The dress had come out perfect. She also had Poppy stay in the room that night with her.

"It's a beautiful dress is not?" Poppy asked as she smooth down the white silk. She walked over the couch and set down.

Mme. Giry nodded. "Yes, it is. It will be a beautiful wedding."

Poppy looked blindly down.

Mme. Giry saw this. Walking over to her, she set down beside her. "What's wrong, _cheire_?"

Poppy's lip trembled slightly, "I'm scared. This is huge. I never thought to be married. Much less, have someone that loves me. My parents never love me. Even when I could see. At times, it is too much."

"You having second thoughts?"

"Heavens, no!" Poppy gave her a nervous smile, "I think I'm more scared of the wedding…of the…" Poppy blushed, "night. I think that is what is making me nervous."

Mme. Giry understood. "Erik is a kind man. He'll understand. I believe he'll be as nervous. Remember that, and it will be fine." She patted Poppy's hand, "Let's get to sleep, you have a big day tomorrow."

Poppy smiled and nodded. She pulled her legs up under the covers. Mme. Giry got up and turned down the gas lamp. She went to bed her self. Both of them fell asleep to the sound of the Opera house's creaks and groans.

XXX

The next morning, the whole company ran around tending to last minute preparations. Reyer had already taken Erik out of the Opera house. Erik was trying to be calm but he was nervous as hell. He was to wait at the Madeleine. The wedding was at four in the evening. After the wedding, all would travel back to the Opera House, where the reception was to take place. Then he and Poppy would go down to the lair. There, they will stay for the next few days. Erik kept pacing the halls and rooms of the church. He may have been a disbeliever before and would want nothing to do with the religion mess. ButErik was now trying to do so. For it was only a miracle that the so-called God could've helped Poppy live. Also, Mme. Giry would hear nothing of Poppy and Erik not being properly wed in a church.

It was an hour before the wedding. Erik knew when Poppy had arrived, for there was a commotion of gigging from the ballet rats. Mme. Giry came out to see how Erik was doing.

"I'm nervous, scared, and exited. I don't know what to do." Erik was wearing his new dress suit, cloak draped on his shoulders. "What if she changes her mind? What if…"

"Stop it, Erik. Poppy loves you. She's just as nervous as you are." Antoinette said, placing a hand on Erik's shoulder.

"She is?"

"She is. She's terrifiedyou are going to leave her at the altar."

"Never!"

"It's time." Reyer came in.

Erik took one last look at his reflection, and went to take his place.

He was nervous while the bridesmaids, Meg included, walked down the aisle. When the music changed, he straightened, and Poppy appeared. Reyer was escorting her. His heart ached at the sight of her. The dress was simple, modest. A white rose was in her long red hair instead of a veil. The dress was cut almost like an angel's robe. It had small bell like sleeves. The train was not long, only trailing behind her only about a foot. She looked like an angel in her dress, and to him, she was. She had saved him from his hell, and he was determined to give her thelove she deserved. He took her hand when she reached the altar, and she smiled at him. When the vows were finished, and the ring on her finger, he swept her into a kiss that was gentle and fierce at the same time. The guests cheered and the two went on to the Opera house for their reception. When they escaped, it was around nine.

When they were down in the lair, both let out breathes of air. Poppy glanced shyly in the direction of Erik, and started gigging.

"What's so funny?"

"Us! Had to run from our own reception!" Poppy said, her nervous giggles dying.

Erik smiled and went to hold her for the moment. He could hear and fell her heart beating faster. "Are you scared?"

"A little. More nervous though. But of you? No." Poppy then began to trace his face with both her hands. "Erik, I'm going to take off the mask."

Erik stiffened for a moment, then nodded. He closed his eyes as the porcelain was gently, slowly, pulled away. He then felt her warm gentle hands on his full face. They traced along his jaw then up to his face. He only flinched, when her fingers came to his deformed side. Poppy then slowly ran her hands though his silky black hair.

Placing her hands on his neck, she pulled his lips to hers in a gentle kiss. Her fingers twined in his hair, and she felt his come up to her head. When they pulled away from each other, he saw her eyes darkened to a smoky gray with suppressed lust, and he knew his eyes mirrored hers. With trembling fingers, she began unbuttoning his shirt, taking time to pull it out of his trousers. She ran her fingers over the skin and turned him around. Poppy felt along his back, fingers dancing over his scars. She kissed every scar on his back, wishing she could take them away. She felt his muscles tighten as he struggled to maintain control. She walked around to his front. Starting at his neck, she kissed all the way down his chest to his navel and back up. He hissed, and she grinned, continuing. Her hand strayed to the bulge growing in his trousers.

Erik couldn't take it.

"Arrête! Stop!" He commanded. Confused, she did, and he adroitly undid the laces on her dress and corset, undressing her halfway as she had him, in half the time. He let his eyes feast on her body. She was slender and her healthy breasts were already peaky and rose-colored from the chill of the room. He lightly ran his fingers over her front gently. She let out a soft breath of air, a sound he found quite encouraging. He swept her into his arms and laid her on the bed. He kissed her all over, savoring the taste of her skin as she had his, and this time she growled, pulling him up into a savage kiss. When they parted, she whispered, her voice husky with want.

"Stop teasing…"

He couldn't deny her, "This will hurt."

"I know. I'm ready." He gently slid into her. She was so tight! He felt her wall, and, squeezing her hand for comfort, forcefully joined them. A tear formed at the corner of each eye, and he kissed them away. When she opened her eyes, he knew she was ready. He started slowly, to get her used to it. However, she didn't want slow and gentle.

"Faster Erik." He obliged, going only a bit more. "Erik." His heart tightened at her words. "You're holding back. I know what you want to do. Do it." He groaned, and did as she said. He plunged into her furiously, riding her hard and fast. She mewed, fingers leaving scratches on his back. "Oh God Erik…Don't stop…" He didn't. He kept going until he felt her flutter about him, and she screamed his name in pleasure. It took him over the edge, and he growled her name into the darkness. Exhausted, he fell to the side, pulling out of her reluctantly. They fell asleep, limbs tangled in beautiful fatigue.

**(Authoress fidgets) I hope it was ok? It took me five hours. And you don't want to know how many versions I erased. Jack was no help ether. (Glares at skeleton in corner.) **

**Jack: Sorry, doll. But you were on your own. **

**(Rips hair out.) I think I'll put a rest here, and work with Eye for a Ghost for a day. But I may still have another chapter up tomorrow.**


	56. Chapter 56

Chapter 56 

**I'm still shocked at myself, so no witty comments this time.**

Over the course of the next few days, Poppy and Erik stayed down in the lair. They spent time in the bed enjoying one other's company. They talked, made plans, and made love. When they finally joined the Opera's company a few days later, they both looked exhausted, but happy. Mme. Giry was the first to see them. She hid her smile, as they both looked terrible. She said nothing though. It might have been the warning look Erik shot her.

Life soon fell back into a pattern. Days went by. One day, however, both Antoinette and Erik were in the offices. Poppy was down on the stage, practicing with Armand and Reyer for the last performance for _Faust_. Antoinette was going over the plans for the Ballet dances. She wanted to put Jammes up front.

"No. Meg. She is a better dancer then Jammes." Erik told her while looking though some papers.

"No. While you and Poppy was…down in your lair, Armand proposed to her. They will be getting married soon."

Erik looked up surprised, "Meg is engaged now?"

Antoinette nodded, "Yes. She has her head in the clouds right now. She cannot concentrate on even the simplest steps."

"Grew up did she not?"

Antoinette wiped a small tear away, "Yes, she did."

Everyone else was just as surprised. They congratulated the couple. Poppy was not surprised though. She had been having a feeling that it would happen. Sweet, shy Armand had been more talkative. So, Poppy guessed that he had proposed. She was happy for him. They had become friends. He was such a gentleman, always polite, even to the stagehands. And a great singer. He was a soft tenor, but no one could compare to Erik's voice. Every night, they fell asleep in each other arms. She loved him so, but they still argued. They both were so hardheaded. Nether would give an inch. They would stand and yell at each other, then make up. Mme. Giry had walked in doing one of their arguments once. She had stood there shocked. It had looked to her that they were ready to tear each other's throats out. Then at some unseen signal that she didn't see, they stopped and apologized, wrapping each other in a tight hug. Mme. Giry threw her hands up, crying 'Good God,' and walked out before she could witness any embarrassing scenes.

Poppy finally got rid of her fear of the stage, just as Erik had predicated. She was again the Opera's diva. Every day both Erik and Reyer worked with her, keeping her voice strong and clear. Erik's choices for the operas that they preformed never were a mistake. The public loved them. Even the nastiest critic had nothing bad to say about the cast and orchestra. Every thing was going great, there was no problems…. well, almost none.

XxX

Two months later.

It was opening night for _The Magic Flute. _Poppy wasn't in this one. But all the same, she was helping the others get ready, or was trying to.

"Poppy, are you alright? You look a bit sick." Meg asked.

Poppy gave her a look that clearly said, _no duh_. She was indeed feeling very sick. The noise was getting to her as well as the smells. "I'm…fine. Go on, or you'll miss your cue."

Meg gave her a concerned look, then hurried off, pausing to whisper something to her mother.

Mme. Giry watched Poppy struggle to not gag at a cart that was wheeled past her filled with bottles of open oil. _I wonder_…. She thought. Shooting a glare at the rats, Antoinette walked over to Poppy. "Cherie, what is wrong? You sick?"

Poppy nodded, "Very. I don't know what is wrong."

Antoinette smiled, "I think I know. Wait here a minuet." She then walked back over to the group of Rats. "Meg. You are in charge. You know what to do. Make sure none of you miss your cues."

"Yes Mother," Meg nodded.

When Antoinette went back to Poppy, Poppy was looking a bit green. "Come this way." She took her by the arm and led her to an empty room. "Now, child, tell me what's wrong."

Poppy still looked sick but was not green any more. "For the past few days I have been sick to my stomach. Smells bother me. I can't eat."

"Does Erik know?"

Poppy shock her head, "Heavens no! I have been hiding it for the past day. I don't plan on telling him."

"Hmm. When was your last month?"

"A month ago," Poppy answered without thinking.

"Well, cherie, I think you will have to tell Erik."

"Why? The sickness will pass. I have been…" Poppy stopped. The meaning of the questions sinking in. She couldn't be. Could she? "You mean….?"

Antoinette let out a small laugh, "Yes cherie. I believe you are."

**Can anyone guess? It's almost time to wrap this phic up, but I still have a few more chapters.**


	57. Chapter 57

**Chapter 57**

Few days later, Poppy still didn't know how to tell Erik. She had begged Mme. Giry to keep quiet, not to tell Erik. He had enough to do without him worrying about her. Poppy's sickness was over, but at times still felt nauseas. It was the middle of May. Poppy and Mme. Giry decided that she was about 2 and half months along now.

Sighing, Poppy put the embroidery piece aside. It was about nine in the evening. Erik was composing a new opera. She smirked. Well, not so new. He was turning the Phantom of the Opera story into an opera. When she had first mentioned that it was a musical in her time, he had wondered, why wasn't it an opera instead? So, that's what he was doing. She had asked which way was he going to take it. Erik had thought on that, and then told her that he will go by the book. Said that most operas were a tragedy and that the story its self was one. Furthermore, he was changing the music. He had not been truly fond of Andrew Lloyd Webber's version. Poppy snickered as she remembered what he had said about the English. Said that they were as stiff and cold as Gothic gargoyles.

Walking out into the main room, she found that the organ was quiet for the moment. Poppy made her way to it. Holding out her hands, she came in contact with Erik's hard back. She ran her hands slowly slide up his spine to his shoulders and neck. The muscles were tense and hard. She marveled at the strength in him. As she massaged him gently, he began to relax. He turned and pulled her into his lap. Poppy let out a small laugh, and then grew somber. Erik saw this.

"Poppy, what is wrong?" he asked, concern in his voice.

She bit her lip, "Erik, have you ever thought about all that comes with marriage?"

"Yes."

She raised an eyebrow, "truly? Well, brush me up on it. What all comes with marriage?"

Without knowing the meaning of the question, he rattled them off, "…..children…"

Poppy cleared her throat. He stopped and looked at her. "Erik, back up one."

"What? Children?" he paused, "Children?" Then hesitantly asked, "You?"

Poppy's face broke out in a smile and nodded.

"How long?"

"Two and half months."

Erik held her close, tears threatening to fall. A father! Him! "You are not worried?"

Poppy laughed, a huge weight taken off her chest, "Erik, women have been having children for years. We are old pros."

"You are not worried that it may be…?"

Oh. That classic question. "No. I believe it well not be. But even it was, I will _not_ love it any less."

This time the tears did fall, as he hugged her tightly. Erik held her and sang to her until she fell asleep. Gently picking her up, he carried her to their bed. Laying her down, Erik stretched out beside her, pulling her close and fell into a peaceful sleep.

**Short I know. Next one will be longer. Time for a vote! What should Poppy and Erik have? A boy? Or a girl? Let me know. I'll tally it all up tomorrow and you all will find out Monday. Hope you all are still enjoying the story. Just a few more chapters then Poppy's and Erik's saga (may) will come to an end. **


	58. Chapter 58

**Chapter 58**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Phantom of the Opera**

"Antoinette?" Erik approached the ballet mistress, "Have you seen Poppy? She has been missing for a few hours now."

Antoinette thought for a few minutes, "No. I haven't seen her ether. She's not down in the lair or practicing with Armand and Reyer?"

He shook his head, "No. She came up with me early this morning, and then excused her self. I haven't seen her since. She has been acting rather strange lately."

"Of course. How strange though?"

Erik shook his head, "Sometimes she'll cry, but mostly act very emotional."

Antoinette laughed and placed a hand on his shoulder, "Don't worry Erik. It is all very normal. Remember when I was carrying Meg?"

He nodded. It had driven him nuts. It was the one thing in the world he didn't understand. He drove Antoinette nuts with embarrassed asked questions, him stuttering and blushing, but not able to hold the questions back. She had tried to tell him that such questions were improper, but his need for learning couldn't be stifled. Finally, to shut him up, she gave him the facts of life. He was indeed shocked. In all of his travels, he had seen and learned about death, but never birth. But, he was still unsure of it.

"I'm still worried though."

Antoinette sighed, glancing at the Rats, tapping her cane on the floor she called them to a stop. "Break. Half hour. Come Erik, let's go find her."

They again spilt up. Looking in all places but one. Erik and Antoinette passed one another in front of the kitchen doors.

"Anything?"

"No. We could try—" Antoinette was interrupted by a loud bang from the kitchen. "We haven't tried the kitchen."

Erik opened the door. On the oak table, food of every kind was laid out. Poppy was feeling around in the cabinets.

"Poppy? What are you doing?"

Poppy turned, a half eaten pickle in her hand, "Looking for something to eat."

Erik picked up a bowl of boiled eggs, eyeing the red sauce on them, "I can see that."

Poppy took a bite of the pickle, then a drink of cream that was in a cup beside her. Walking over to the table, she felt around. "Erik? Is there a lemon pie on the table?"

"Pie?" He raised an eyebrow, pushing the yellow pie over to her, watching as she cut a piece out and take a bite "You hate pie. In fact, you hate more then half the food you have laid out."

Poppy nodded, spearing another piece, "I know." Popping the bite in her mouth, she swallowed then looked up, "Do we have any pickled pig's feet and mushrooms?"

**Short I know, but that was the idea for this chappie. Like her little buffet?**


	59. Chapter 59

**Chapter 59**

In the months that followed, Poppy's wild cravings died down. She was still emotional, though. Crying at little things or getting mad at the little things. Finally, when she was about seven months along, she became normal again. Her temper was shorter, but Erik learned the hard way to tread carefully. The first time she snapped, he found out how short tempered she was. He had been working on the opera he was writing. He was not going to wait until 1986, for the British composer to write _his _supposed story. He wanted to write it and write it right, not wait until after he was dead, for it to be twisted all-around. He had been asking how the ending went after _Don Juan_. Poppy answered well enough, happy to have a hand with the story. When he had the outline done, Poppy asked whom did he have in mind to play the parts. Erik told her that most of the company would be playing their parts that were in the book and musical. He would be playing his self. Poppy nodded, telling him only the original would be right for it. Armand would play Raoul. Erik had gritted his teeth a little at the name, but nothing more. But then came the storm. Poppy asked who was going to play Christine. Not thinking about Poppy's past hate of Christine, had told her that she would. Poppy had fallen silent. Then asked:

"You have _got_ to be kidding?" her voice was quiet, but the storm was brewing.

"No. I think you would make a great Christine." He had meant her voice, for it was getting better everyday. But Poppy's hormones were shot up so she was looking for a fight.

"I would make a great _Christine_!" She shrieked, "Am I so much like her? Or are you trying to make me like her? Do you want the little bitch back? Is that why you are writing this opera? To pretend that I'm her? If you want her go, find her, and leave me the hell alone!" Suddenly she burst out crying. Sinking to her knees, Poppy cried into her hands.

Erik had stood there shocked at what she had said. Surly, she didn't mean those things. He was kneeing beside her the moment she had fell to her knees. He gathered her tightly into his arms, holding her like a child to his lean, but powerful frame. Poppy cried on his shoulder, allowing him to soothe her.

"Pas le cri, mon amour, s'il vous plait ne pas pleurer," he whispered, rocking her in his arms, one hand held her tightly to his chest, the other was tangled in her long hair, stroking it. His face was buried in her hair and Poppy felt him kissing her head softly.

Her sobs slowly came to an end. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean those things I said. My temper is just terrible at the moment."

Erik continued to rock her, "I know. I'm sorry as well. I should have remembered your state. I had only meant—"

"I know. You meant my voice. I –" she stopped.

"What's wrong?"

She smiled, "The baby just kicked." Poppy took his hand and placed it on her small abdomen. At seven months, she looked like she was five.

Erik felt her hard stomach. Suddenly, he felt a hard kick at his hand. He pulled away, shocked. "The baby?"

Poppy smiled sweetly, "Yes. The baby knows you. Every time you sing, it'll kick and move then settle down." She thought for a minute, and then found his hand again, placing it back on her belly. "Sing."

Erik began to sing, feeling the baby kick upwards then began to settle down let Poppy had said.

_"Night-time sharpens, heightens each sensation ...  
Darkness stirs and wakes imagination ...  
Silently the senses abandon their defenses ... _

_Slowly, gently night unfurls its splendor ...  
Grasp it, sense it - tremulous and tender ...  
Turn your face away from the garish light of day,  
turn your thoughts away from cold, unfeeling light -  
and listen to the music of the night ... _

_Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams!  
Purge your thoughts of the life you knew before!  
Close your eyes, let your spirit start to soar!  
And you'll live as you've never lived before ... _

_Softly, deftly, music shall surround you ...  
Feel it, hear it, closing in around you ...  
Open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind,  
in this darkness which you know you cannot fight -  
the darkness of the music of the night. _

_Let your mind start a journey through a strange, new world!  
Leave all thoughts of the world you knew before!  
Let your soul  
Take you where you long to be!  
Only then can you belong to me ... _

_Floating, falling, sweet intoxication!  
Touch me, trust me, savor each sensation!  
Let the dream begin,  
let your darker side give in to the power of  
the music that I write - the power of the music of the night ... _

_You alone can make my song take flight help me make the music of the night ..." _

When he finished, both his loves were asleep in his arms.

**Aww how sweet! I have decided what the baby will be. It may be a girl, or I may surprise you all and give them a boy. You just never know! Some of the answers were great! Twins! That'll really made Erik frazzled. **

**Pas le cri, mon amour, s'il vous plait ne pas pleurer- don't cry, my love, please don't cry. **

**Like I had said n my other story and profile, I love the languages, but am not fluent. I know words and phrases, but that is all. Sorry. **


	60. Chapter 60

**Chapter 60**

**It's time! **

Poppy was in Erik's box. They were watching ballet auditions, or at least Erik was. She listened to his criticizing remarks. She felt so uncomfortable. Her stomach was not very big for her now being nine months, but it was still enough to show and make her uncomfortable. She absolutely refused to wear a corset. It hurt, and when she had been in her own time, read about what the people didn't realized. Wearing the damn cage endangered the child and mother. When she had explained this to Erik, he had been appalled. So she had the opera's seamstress let out some of her dresses, so that she didn't have to wear the corset. But even now, the loose and now comfortable dress was aggravating her. She knew her time was close; the baby had been still for the past few days. Antoinette was guessing that it was a boy, due to Poppy's past cravings. Erik wanted a girl; Poppy… didn't care. All she wanted was a healthy baby. Boy or girl. Girl or boy, she'll love ether one.

She sighed and fidgeted. Things were going great with the Opera House. She had heard people talking that Erik was the best manger the house has ever seen. But deep in her gut, she had a bad feeling, like when the chandelier had fallen. She heard the curious whispers about his mask. The only thing that kept them at bay was their respect and still ever fear of him. Erik was a fair man, he treated everyone equal. They all respected that, but there were still a few that was not satisfied and was getting too curious for their own good. Poppy had Erik about this, warning him. She told him don't panic but just keep an eye out.

She fidgeted again, and then sighed. Picking at a lose thread she felt a sharp pain go though her stomach. She stopped and felt it again. She then knew. It was time. She tightened her lips as another coursed though her belly. There was no need to tell Erik yet, for the contractions them died off. She let out a quiet, relived sigh. Thank god, Erik had not noticed. He had been bad enough when she started to swell a little. He didn't want her to walk down the lair by herself, or walk around too much. She had thought him sweet, but told him that just because she was pregnant, didn't mean she was helpless. Yes, true she had to go a bit slower, but she could still help him in the offices and such.

By the time the auditions were over, the contractions were more frequent. Erik started to walk out of the box, not noticing Poppy not following. But it didn't take long. He stopped and turned, Poppy still sitting in her chair, facing the auditorium.

"Poppy? Are you all right?" concern was in his voice.

"Shh. I'm trying to concentrate." Poppy gritted out between her teeth as another contraction ran though her.

Erik was kneeling at her side in a spilt second, "You… sure?"

She nodded. "The pains began awhile ago."

He stood, picking her up. "We need to get you to bed."

"I can walk," she warned.

"I know." He carried her into the hollow column in the box, for it was the fastest way to the lair. It took only ten minutes to get to the lair. He laid her onto the bed. "Lie still. I'll go and get Antoinette."

"Erik, you don't have to rush. It'll still be awhile," She gritted out.

"I'm just making sure there will be someone to make sure there will not be any problems."

Poppy smiled. There will be once Mme. Giry finds out that that Erik forgot not to bring her down here. She had told Erik that the lair was not a proper place for the baby to be born. Plus they would need a doctor or midwife. That meant someone other then Antoinette to come down to Erik's lair.

Erik hurried up the tunnel. He soon found Antoinette. She took one look at his face and knew.

"Where is she?"

"In the lair."

"Erik…."

Erik shot her an impatient look, "Now is not the time."

Antoinette sighed, "You're right. But you do know that it means that Maierline will have to go down there."

"I know. It will not matter soon."

Antoinette gave him a funny look, but he waved her away, "Go. Go get her. You know the way. Get her and bring her down." Seconds later he was gone, leaving Antoinette to go and fetch the midwife.

After Erik had Antoinette to get the midwife, he then returned to his wife. Poppy was sitting up in the bed, breathing in rapid, shallow gasps, her forehead filmed with sweat..

"Anything I can do?"

"talk to me."  
And talk he did. Erik talked of his endless love for her and their unborn child. He talk just to talk. Taking her head he rubbed it and patted it. she in turned squeezed and cryied out each time a pain rolled though her. After an long time, he heard the sound of feet walking down the tunnel and sighed with relief as the midwife entered the room, followed by Antoinette. The next moments were busy; Maierline examined Poppy.

"Erik," Poppy whispered.

"I'm here, my love."

"You need to leave."

"No."

"I want—_need_ you to leave. At least for the moment. I need to concentrate, and I don't want you to see this."

"Are you sure?"

Poppy nodded, not saying anything as she gritted her teeth.

Maierline turned to frown at him. "Go on. Everything is going fine. And she does need to concentrate now "

Regrettably Erik left to stand out side the door. Knowing that Poppy was suffering and knowing he could do nothing to ease her pain hurt worse than anything Erik had ever endured before. He began to understand why husbands preferred to pace in the parlor and smoke.

There were no screams, only an occasnal cry. Finally, it was over. The door opened and Antoinette beckoned to him. Numbly, he walked into the room. Poppy was holding a very small bundle. There was no noise. Poppy looked exhausted, but contented.

Trembling, Erik could only stare as Poppy held out a hand. Antoinette pushed him and he snapped out of it and walked over to her. He took her hand and lightly squeezed it. Her lips curved upwards in a tired smile as she brushed a finger over the baby's face. "She's so beautiful."

Erik tentatively caressed the baby's cheek with a fingertip. "She looks like you," he whispered. "Thank God." Indeed the baby had Poppy's features. But he also saw his self. She had thick black hair like him.

Maierline finished her work and rose, smiling. " I suspect that you're going to be occupied. So, I'll just find my own way back up"

Erik never looked up.

"Would you like to hold her, Erik?"

He was shocked by the idea. "I can't. I'll…"

Before he could protest further, she transferred the baby into his arms.

Erik held the tiny bundle ineptly, scarcely daring to breathe. The baby yawned, opening her eyes. The deep green fixed intently and wonderingly upon his. They were aware and sentient. She cooed up at him, her voice almost like his. Magical and beautiful. She squirmed and Erik's grasp automatically shifted to accommodate the movement. He heard a sound and glanced up to see Poppy smiling fondly at him, her eyes soft with love.

He moved to sit beside her, slipping an arm around her shoulders to draw her close. She laid her head against his chest. he was unable to say anything, but he knew that words were unnecessary.


	61. Chapter 61

**Chapter 61 **

Little Amée AmintaLeroux changed everyone's life. She was a good baby from the start. Crying only when she was hungry or wet. Even though Poppy had no experience with babies, her maternal instincts served her well. She loved Amée. Some times Poppy would just hold her and talk to her. Never baby talk though. Poppy would not allow anyone talk baby talk to her. Her motherly intuition some how knew that Aimée was intelligent. More so then most newborns. She had told Erik this, and he had agreed. Amée was truly aware.

If Poppy loved Amée, Erik loved her even more. He would sing to her, played the organ, or held her. She was a loving baby. She knew Antoinette, cooed at Meg, and flirted with everyone else. Not surprisingly though, Amée preferred her father to anyone else. She when brightened when she ether saw or heard him. Amée would coo and giggle at him until he picked her up.

Maierline visited occasionally. The first time it was to check on Poppy and the baby. She was surprised to see Poppy up and about. In all her twenty years of being a midwife, she had never seen someone so physically strong. She told Erik so.

"She didn't even scream. Only cried out at times. It is not uncommon…for ones who has had children before. This was her first. Poppy is a special woman." Maierline told Erik, as they watched Poppy feed Amée. Then place her in the cradle Erik had bought "She is strong. Stubborn too."

Erik nodded, only half listening to her. He was busy watching his wife and daughter. His heart swelled with more love then he ever thought possible. "She was up before I was. I wanted her to stay in bed rest, but she insisted on getting up."

"Amée is an exteriority baby as well. She is more aware then most newborns. She is going to be smart."

Erik knew it, as well as Poppy. But it was not until Amée was five months old that they really knew.

Maierline was curious about Amée. She would come and talk to Poppy and Erik about her. Amée was playing her cradle. Maierline was talking to Erik, telling him that the lair was not a proper place for raising a child. Erik was about to snap at her when Poppy came up to them and whispered, listen. And listen they did. Amée was tapping the tiny bells that he had hung over the cradle. It was one of the few things he remembered his mother do for him be for he had ran away. The bells were being struck in a repetitive pattern.

"Good lord," Maierline gasped, "she is no ordinary child."

"No, she isn't, "Poppy agreed, "She is Erik's daughter. She will be a genius. Like her father"

**Short I know, but my muse has again left for the day. He may be back tomorrow. Amée is French for Amy and it means beloved. I thought it would be most appropriate. After the great and pleading review from Ram Jas I put the requested name as middle. Thank you. and thank you all For the lovely names. But if I added them all, Amée's name will be too long. and no I didn't play favorites. Ram Jas's review was the frist one in my inbox thatI read. **


	62. Chapter 62

Chapter 62

The prediction that Poppy made was not wrong. Amée was intelligent. She was picking tunes out on the bells at five months, at seven months, she said her first word clearly, and not surprising though her first word was "daddy". Poppy had just got done feeding Amée, when Erik walked by; Amée reached out her arms and cried "daddy!" that of course got Erik teared up.

She was also starting to crawl and get into everything. Poor Ayesha got the blunt of it all, but the cat took it all in good grace. She became protective of her, always following Amée around, sleeping beside the cradle, or laying beside her on the couch whenever Poppy laid her down. Both Poppy and Erik thought it was sweet, but Antoinette had frowned, believing the old wives tell that cats steal a baby's breath. Poppy tried to explain it to her. Antoinette didn't get it, but then she _was _set in her ways.

Erik knew that they couldn't stay in the lair anymore. It was indeed dangerous for Amée. Poppy had helped Erik put rocks knee high along the edge of the water, but it wouldn't last forever. So, swallowing his fear of the world outside the Opera house, begin to look for a small home near the Opera house. In the mean time, ether Meg, Maierline, or Antoinette was looking after Amée when Poppy was singing or working in the offices. They would ask to watch her. Which meant Erik could work with Poppy, on the opera he was writing, or spend time with Poppy, but both couldn't stand to be away from Amée long.

XxX

Amée was about nine months old when Erik found a house that suited him. It was only a quarter mile from the Opera house, only a few blocks he found if he opened a tunnel that he hadmade years agobut never used. In fact, he spent a mouth extending the tunnel so that it came up under the house. It had five bedrooms, a dinning room, a den, a kitchen that had a servant quarters that a joined to it, and large attic. Secretly buying it, he had it furnished. He had a smaller organ installed. He was keeping the lair opened though. It was too special to him and Poppy, for she loved the lair and Erik had lived too long there to just forget about it. Antoinette knew what he had been doing, even helped. Erik told her to keep it quiet, he wanted Poppy surprised. A day after it was finished, he had Antoinette watch Amée.

"Poppy?"

She looked up and smiled, "Yes?"

"Antoinette is going to watch Amée today."

Poppy placed Amée in her cradle, and listened to her tap the tiny bells. "Why?'

"Because, I have something to show you. Get your cloak and met me out in the main room."

Poppy raised an eyebrow questionly, but did as he said. She grabbed her black cloak, pausing to give Amée a kiss. Amée giggled and went back to tapping the bells.

She meant Erik out in the main room. Antoinette was there. "She's been fed, right now she's playing with the bells, but will soon fall asleep…"

"Poppy, I know. Don't worry, Amée will be fine." Antoinette pushed Poppy towards Erik, "Now go."

Poppy smiled, and took Erik's hand. He led her up the tunnel, and out the Opera's front doors. She raised her eyebrow, but kept quiet. Erik helped her into a waiting carriage.

"So, were are we going?" Poppy couldn't take the silence anymore.

Erik chuckled, "It's a surprise. Just wait, we will be there in a few minutes." And they were, for five minutes later the carriage stopped. Erik sent the driver on, and led Poppy up the few steps to the house. Leading her in, he closed the door. "I know you love the lair, but as you know it is getting to be too dangerous for Amée. So I looked and found this house."

"You bought it?" Poppy asked as she felt her way around. She came into contact with the wooden banister. She ran her fingers over the smooth dark wood.

"Yes. And what's more, there is now a tunnel that leads back to the Opera house." Erik told her as he watched her stumble around. He didn't help her though. She would brush him aside. He knew she would want to get a feel of her surroundings by herself.

She turned to face him, "My, have we been a busy bee, "she smirked.

"You do not mind?"

She smiled and shook her head, walking up to him, "Of course not. I love it." She cupped his face and brought her lips close to his, "As I love you," pressing her lips against his.

Erik kissed her back. By the time he got around showing her around, it was dark, but thank god for being able to see in the dark. He showed her every room and was patient as she felt her was around the room, memorizing it. When it was time to head back, they took the tunnel Erik had made. Back in the lair, they checked on Amée, saw that she was asleep, thanked Antoinette and hurried to their room to 'talk.' Antoinette just shook her head and left them to their business.

XXX

Within the next week, they were moved into their new house, Amée loving the different scenery and the excitement. They didn't have much to move, only personal things. Erik told Poppy that they'd leave the lair as it was. That when they wanted to get away, all they had to do is take a five-minute walk down the tunnel.

That night, after Amée was asleep, did they settle down into their own bed. That night was the first night that they made love in their new home.

**Well, as you can tell Jack is back. Tell me; were can a damn skeleton go?**

**Jack: To a dance.**

**(Snorts) Sure, they did the 'Bone Jangle Hop'. **

**Jack: _Touché. _Well, aren't you being sarcastic?**

**Thank you. I do enjoy being that way. **

**Well, did you all enjoy the chapter? Hope so. Now, the next chapter has me all worried. It is a part not many have written, so it is indeed a touchy chapter. if no one likes it I will take it back down and rewrite it. **


	63. Chapter 63

Chapter 63

**Well here is the worrisome chapter (twists hands in cloak as tries to wait patiently for reviews)**

Amée was a year old when Erik finished the opera. She was indeed musically cline. Erik would play a small tune, and Amée would play it back. When Erik played the whole opera to Poppy, Amée's emotions matched the music. When it was sad, she cried, when it was happy, she laughed, and when it was angry, her face scrunched up. It was something to watch her.

Erik had followed the book more then the musical. For he had worked the unmasking part out very carefully. He was going to let it be known, that he had been the Opera Ghost, that he was indeed deformed. Poppy was confused and surprised that he was going though with it. When she had asked about it, he had told her that he had been watching the people of Paris. In all his years of living here, he had never truly noticed the people that lived in it. He saw men walking the streets that had worse faces then him. They had ether been born like that like him, or had suffered an accident. He had reigned in his fear of speaking to people, and had talked to them. They told him briefly about their lives, and he had told a little about his self. Erik told her that, they understood way he had hidden his self. That they had said that many times in their lives they had felt like doing the same thing. They told hem what Poppy had said those many months ago; it is only flesh. True there are people that well be disgusted that they will still hate him, but if he showed that he is a good person, most will over look it.

"I'm tried of living in a hole like a rat. True, my temper is insufferable…"

"But it can be fixed. What has made you hated was your temper. I can't explain your mother, but if she had not have been the weak woman she was and didn't make you wear the damn mask, you wouldn't have had to feel the need to live under the Opera house. True, I love it; you had taken nothing and turned it into a home." Poppy said as she fed Amée her breakfast, "Stop that now, eat it, not play in it," she told her.

Erik nodded, "An so much has happened. I am now the manger of the Opera Populaire…"

"A husband and father…stop it… Amée…" Poppy fought with her. Amée wanted to draw in the food that she had spilt. Erik watched mother and daughter battle for the spoon, a smile on his face. Finally, Poppy got the spoon away from Amée. Amée let out a whimpering cry, but then laughed and blew kisses at her mother. Poppy tried to hide her laugh as she wiped Amée's face and hands off. She picked her up, and carried her to the living room, Erik following. Ayesha was lying in the sun. When she saw Poppy put Amée down and her toddle over to her, Erik swore that the cat rolled her eyes and sighed.

"So when are we going to perform this opera?" Poppy asked as she set down and rubbed her forehead.

"Very soon. Practice will begin the day after tomorrow. I want to talk to the company later this evening." He told her as he set down beside her.

"I have to be there?"

"Of course. I talked to Maierline. She'll watch Amée."

Poppy sighed and laid her head on Erik's shoulder, listening to Amée try to case Ayesha around the room.

XXX

Erik had passed out the scores and scripts. Then patiently answered questions. All had been none saying the least, shocked. Erik told them; yes, it was a true story. That it was indeed his life. Mme. Giry frowned, but said nothing. Then came the tender part; his mask. Most had indeed guessed that he was deformed on that side. He had dreaded this part, but he need to show them. They had all been polite and never said a word about it, only glanced at it and whispered. Both he and Poppy prepared them and themselves. Erik felt like he couldn't breathe. Closing his eyes, he slowly removed the mask.

**Now I could be cruel and leave a cliffhanger here. Oh the choices…what ever shall I do?**

**Ah, what the hell…**

The silence that followed was almost as deafening had there been screams. The Rats let out gasps, as did the rest. Poppy couldn't see the reactions. She had never felt so flustered at being blind as she did at that moment.

Erik heard the gasps, and he opened his eyes. They were indeed shocked. They all set or stood with their mouths open.

Mme. Giry was the first to walk up to him. She, of course, had seen it many times. She turned to the rest, "I think that this does not change a thing."

The rest blinked and then shook their heads. Reyer looked down at the score, then back up at his manager. "When is the opera to be performed?"

Erik glanced at him, "As soon as you all stop staring at me and get to work on the practices."

They all scrambled.

Poppy pulled Erik off the stage and into a dark corner. "You all right? It was a very chancy thing you did, Erik. You know that you will be watched closely now. We all will be walking on pins for a few weeks."

"I know, but as we had agreed, I can't live in the shadows forever," He told he shakily.

Poppy held him close until he was not as shocked. When they finally joined the company, he had regained his compositor, and the people only glanced at him then retuned to their work, some asking Erik questions. Overall, trying to accept him.

**I'm a bit worried that this chapter was too much. I hope that Erik showing his self to the Opera Company was did all right? (worry and fidgets yet again)**


	64. Chapter 64

Chapter 64 

**Thank you all! I was so worried about last chapter. Ah, what can I say? I'm a worrywart. My family says that one day my hair will turn white. (Gasp!) Is that a white hair? No, sorry, false alarm **

Erik showing the Opera Company his face went surprisingly well. There were some that wanted to make trouble, but they were ether dismissed or straightened out. There were some that could not handle it and quit, but other then that, they accepted him. Mme. Giry was not happy with him. Like Poppy had said, she told him that it was a very risky, but she went along with it. She was also not fond of the opera Erik wrote. She went around muttering 'foolishness and such'.

The opera it's self was to be a one-time performance, like _Don Juan_. Practice went well, and life soon became set in a flowing motion. Erik and Poppy would rise in the mornings, Erik going ahead to the Opera House, sometimes walking outside, and some times taking the tunnel under the house. Poppy would wait until Amée woke up. She would feed her and then cleaned the mess up and take Amée with her to the Opera house. Once there, ether Antoinette or Meg who was now married to Armand. She was expecting her first child, so she no longed danced, but she had proved to be a great assistedent to her mother who was training her daughter to take over as ballet mistress. Poppy then would ether work with Erik and or Reyer and Armand. When the day was done, Both Erik and Poppy would get Amée and go home, to get ready to do the same thing the next day.

XxX

It was June when the opening for the once in a lifetime opera was to be performed. Tickets and the boxes were sold out. No one knew who was more nervous. Poppy was only worried about Erik. He kept fidgeting. Finally, an hour before the show was to begin; Poppy pulled him to an empty room. She pushed him against the wall, kissing him. When they broke apart, both were panting.

"Wha—"

Poppy smiled and kissed him again, pulling the full mask off, "just giving you something to think about and look forward to after the opera."

"Why wait till after the opera?" Erik whispered against her neck causing her to shiver.

"You're right. Why wait?" she kissed his right cheek.

XXX

When they came back out, both were straightening their rumpled clothes, looking a bit guilty. Mme. Giry hid a smile as she asked them if they set straight Erik's fidgeting problem. Both nodded breathlessly as they when to take their places.

XXX

The first part of the opera started out that the mangers were giving a last gala performance to mark their retirement, Poppy/Christine singing as the star. It then went to showing the antics of the silly little ballet rats whispering about _Le Fantom_. They whispered and frightened themselves. The scene then went on to introduce Raoul de Chagny/ Armand, showing him making his way back stage to see his childhood friend. Poppy/Christine was surprised to see him and gave him a hug, but sent him on his way. It was time for Erik's appearance. The audience only heard his silky voice as he berated Raoul/Armand and congratulated Poppy/Christine. Then Poppy/Christine came out of her room and Raoul/Armand searched the room to find it empty.

Act two, had the incidents with the notes, and Poppy/Christine acknowledging her remembrance of Raoul/Armand, and her visiting her father's grave. Again, Erik was in this scene, but no one got to see him yet, only a shadow of him and him playing the violin. It then went on to _Faust_, and Carlotta/Jammes "croaking" then the chandelier 'falling' next Poppy/Christine disappearing.

This was the part Poppy had been worried about. The unmasking. The audience loved the sudden appearance of Erik. Erik led her down to his 'lair.' Everything went fine, until Poppy/Christine had to sneak up behind him. Lightly she touched his shoulder.

"You sure Erik?" Poppy whispered.

"Yes. The audience will only think that it will be make-up." He whispered back.

Poppy nodded only slightly and with tears in her eyes, pulled the mask away. Erik whipped around screaming at her as Poppy/Christine fledged horror. Too much disfigurement would have been too much for the audience. So, Erik had only made himself ugly, covering the worst of it. But it was still enough for the audience draw a breath. The opera progressed on. To the beautiful masked ball to the rooftop scene, then to the 'kidnapping'. Then the search for Poppy/Christine, the choice of the scorpion or grasshopper. The kiss. Which, nether, meant to drag out.

All three, Erik, Poppy, and Armand were exhausted. But they took their curtain calls. The audience loved it. There were shouts of "bravo" and "encore". Poppy passed Erik a glance that said, "Thank God it is over!"

They didn't join the others for the celebration party afterwards, but with Maierline watching Amée, they went down to the lair for their own celebration party.

"It was a surprise, you know that Erik?"

Erik glanced at as he lit some candles, "That it was excellent?"

Shaking her head, "No, any thing you compose is bound to be excellent. I meant the fact that the audience loved it. Most wouldn't like that kind of story. At least not until100 and some years have passed."

Walking up behind her, and he wrapped his arms around her waist, and pulled her close, "Yet they enjoyed it." He whispered in her ear causing her to shiver.

Poppy turned in his arms, "They will have much to say tomorrow. As to why it was to be an only one-timer."

"I care not what they say. It was something that needed to be done. I only hope I didn't put your so-called British composer out of a job by 114 years."

Poppy laughed; "He'll have another great one." she slowly pulled the full black mask off and kissed his lips, "But the only composer I care about is the French one in front of me. The one that is my husband, the father of my spoiled, but darling child, and the one I love."

Erik didn't say anything only brought his lips to her own, held and kissed her with such infinite tenderness that it made her want to cry. "I love you, I have never felt love before, but I do love you." With those words uttered, her picked her up, Poppy not protesting, and carried her to their old bed.

The next morning, while Poppy was still asleep, Erik went and got the daily newspaper. Nether cared for it, but he knew Poppy would want to hear the critic's review on the opera last night. When he returned, he found Poppy sitting up in the bed.

"Did you get it?" excitement in her voice.

Erik chuckled, "Yes, I did."

"Well, read it!"

Erik set down on the bed with her, opened the paper, and began to read.

"If you was one of the lucky that went to the Opera Populaire to see the one-time opera _Le Fantom de L'Opera_ then you do not need to read this. But those who were not lucky enough to see it, I'll tell you this: it was one of the best-written and preformed Operas ever composed and written! The story was abut a deformed genius who calls himself The Phantom, that lives beanth the very Opera house that it was preformed in. he falls in love with a young girl, Christine, and teaches her how to sing. But she loves anther, Raoul. The Phantom then, scared of losing the girl, takes her to his underground lair, where she pulls off his mask and sees his face. The face was so life like that one should congratulate the make-up artist. The heartbreak and betrayal in The Phantom's voice, was so sad, that my wife cried, as well as my mother. The Phantom then ends up kidnapping the girl, and gives her the choice of ether turning a black scorpion or a gold grasshopper. Turning the scorpion, she had agreed to marry the Phantom, turning the grasshopper, the Opera house gets blown up. The hero, Raoul, shows up, the girl, Christine, kisses the Phantom, and thus he lets both go, him dieing of a broken heart. I am told that the Opera was based on a true story. The Opera truly written by the Opera Ghost his self, the now manager of the Opera Populaire, Erik Leroux. He had made a comment that some of it truly happened, the rest fiction. For, Leroux had said with a slight laugh, he did not die, and is in fact happily married the young woman that played Christine. His wife, fiery redhead, Poppy O'Collen Leroux the diva of the Opera Populaire, played Christine, Armand le Notaire was Raoul, and Erik Leroux played his self, The Phantom.

I believe, that it was an Opera that may be preformed in years to come, may out surpass, _Faust. _All in all an opera, that was a beautiful and entrancing tragedy.

---Charles de Notre,

Arts Critic"

Erik looked over at Poppy, a thoughtful look on her face.

"That was the nastiest critic ever. And he gave us a great review! Well, Monsieur Erik Leroux, how does it feel to have your music loved by every one?"

Erik thought for a minute, "I feel like the man, that I have always longed to be."

"And truly has been, " Poppy lead over and gave him a kiss.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

**(Sob), Almost done. But there will be a huge surprise at the end though.**

**Jack: what was that? **

**What? What was what?**

**Jack: All the mushy stuff. You never paused. And it normally takes you about as hour to write a sentence with the word 'kiss' in it. **

**I had a mood. Still am in a mood. **

**Jack: Serves you right. Next time watch your normal horror flicks, not some chick-flick. **

**It looked interesting. **

**Jack: You still hated it though, all the sarcastic remarks, it's a wonder you can remember what it was about. What was it about?**

**Ahh…I can't remember.**

**Jack: Ha! Do you even remember the name of it? **

**That I do! It was…Maid in Manhattan! **

**Jack: Heaven help us! **

**Sorry about that. He's been insufferable! **

**Jack: Me? You are the one…**

**Hon, go be the skeleton in the closet you are. **

**(Muse walks away grumbling)**

**There is only a few more chapters left, but as I said there will be a huge surprise at the end!**


	65. Chapter 65

**Chapter 65 **

The opera was indeed only preformed once. The next day Erik gathered the scripts up and locked them away, saying maybe one day, it will be preformed again, but not now.

Life progressed, Poppy singing on the stage, Erik along with her at times, or Armand. Mme. Giry retired, making Meg who was now a mother of a son, the Ballet Mistress. Amée turned two then three, ever surprising every one around her. She was reading stories, singing in her sweet voice and playing simple songs on the organ. She also was inquisitive about everything. Always asking 'who' 'how come' 'what for' and 'why'? She drove her mother batty at times. Erik saw this and would take Amée to the Opera house or lair to get her out of Poppy's hair. When they returned, Poppy's patience was back on track, and was ready to care for her again. Poppy also had Erik teach her to read, though it only took a few lessons. Poppy had Amée to read to her while Poppy did something around the house. Erik also taught her the violin, and cello. Poppy warned Erik to watch her, for the cello was bigger then her. But no ballet. Singing, fine, but no ballet. Other forms of dancing fine, but no ballet. When Erik asked why, Poppy grew cold as she remembered her parents. She didn't want Amée to go though what she had. Erik understood, for Poppy was deathly afraid the she maybe like her parents. Erik assured her that she was not.

Erik and Poppy both talked about having another child. They agreed that it would be nice, but try as they might, Poppy never did conceive again. She was worried that is was her body that did not want to listen. Sometimes at night, she would tear up in Erik's arms, blaming herself. Erik would hold her and tell her that it was not her fault, that it more then likely was not time yet.

It happened when they least expected. Amée was four going on five, when Poppy found out. For the past few days, she felt short tempered. Poppy had Amée play a few songs on the piano in the living room. When Poppy had moved on to do a few other things, Amée tried to 'compose' her own songs, like 'daddy'. The sound was sweet, and good, but Poppy was fighting with the stove, her blindness and irritability was grating on her nerves. Finally, Poppy slammed the oven door closed, and told Amée to go draw in her room. Amée took on look at her mother and knew something was wrong.

"Alright Mama." Amée shot off the bench and ran to her room to draw.

Poppy sat down on the bench crying. That's how Erik found her.

"Poppy? What's the matter?" Erik was beside her, sitting on the bench, took her in he's arms. "Are you alright?"

"I'm just being emotional. Sorry to worry you." Poppy dried her eyes.

"Emotional? Do you think…?"

"Maybe. I can have Maierline over tomorrow. She'll know." Poppy kissed Erik's cheek, "How did the day go?"

Erik sighed, "They must have been having a bad day. No one was doing anything right."

Poppy laughed.

"Mama? Daddy? Can I show you what I drew?" Amée was standing in the doorway holding a piece of paper.

"Of course, come here," Poppy held out her arms.

Amée ran and climbed up and set between them. She gave Erik a hug than her mother one. "See? It is Ayesha. I drew her. Isn't she pretty?"

"Very," Erik agreed.

Amée looked over at her mother, "You alright now?"

Poppy hugged her daughter, "Now I am."

Amée squealed, hugging both her parents, then wiggled, reaching her tiny arms towards the piano keys, "I wrote a song!" and her fingers ran across the keys, playing a happy little tune.

Erik and Poppy both swelled with pride as they listened to their daughter play her heart out.

XxX

Poppy set her cup of tea down, "I never did understand the concept of teatime. When my parents dragged me to the boring things I kept falling asleep in the chair."

Antoinette nodded, "I never did enjoy them ether. I don't even like tea."

Both Poppy and Maierline laughed.

"What? Is that so hard to believe?"

They laughed even harder.

When they finally stopped laughing, Poppy cleared her throat, "I'm sorry to ask this but I'll like to tell Erik this alone."

"Of course, cheire. Good luck." Antoinette hugged her, and both women made their way out.

Poppy sat there, impatiently picking at her dress. When Erik returned, she was pacing the house.

"Poppy?"

"Erik! Come to the living room!"

Once in the room Poppy took deep breath, "Maierline stopped by today."

"And?" Erik asked eagerly.

Poppy put her head down, a smile on her face, and then raising it, "You are going to be a father again."

**Well, that is part of the surprise, but not all of it. And sorry no vote. I already have the name and what the baby is going to be. Sorry. But believe me, it will be worth it.**


	66. Chapter 66

Chapter 66

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Phantom of the Opera**

**Well this is it. The last chapter to Love is Blind. **

In the months that followed, Poppy began to have a hard time. Erik was thrilled at another child, but was worried about Poppy. Her temper was even shorter, her white eyes dulled, and she became tired quicker. In her fifth month, she was big. When she had carried Amée she had been small, but now she was bigger then most women at five. He had her to stay home, and asked Antoinette to stay with her and help with Amée. Amée was exited to help her mother, at the fact that she might get ether a little sister or baby brother. She would take Poppy water or play music for her.

When Poppy was eight months, she began having trouble breathing. She would have to stop after only a few steps and have to suck in air. It was then Erik moved her to the bed and made her stay there. As much as she hated it, she was glad to stay still. Amée would come in, sing, and play the violin. She also would talk and read to the baby by sitting by Poppy's stomach. Amée would also press gently on her mother's belly, feeling the baby move. She would clap her hands and lay her head on Poppy's swollen belly and fall asleep. Poppy thought it was the cutest thing and having Amée there helped her. She would cry as Amée slept with her head resting on her belly. She would hug her close and wait for Erik come home in the evenings.

Maierline visited every day to see if Poppy and the baby were ready, but day after day, nothing. Finally, a week after Poppy was due, Maierline brought with her bag. Erik met her at the door. He eyed the bag then her.

"She is not ready. Why do you need the bag?" he inquired.

Maierline stared him straight in the eye, "Poppy is over-do. If she does not go into labor and have this child, the baby could die in the womb and kill Poppy. I'm going to induce labor today. I will need all the help I can get. Where is Antoinette?"

Erik bid her come in, "She is upstairs with Poppy."

"Good. And Amée?"

"Poppy was not feeling well, so Meg is watching her." Erik paused, "What can I do?"

Maierline had started up the stairs. She glanced back at Erik, "Boil water. Fetch clean sheets and towels. And bring a kettle of hot water up." She shot him a wry smile, her leathery face wrinkled, "Can you handle that?"

Erik glared at her, "Of course I can Madame," he replied in a cold voice.

Maierline laughed and continued up the stairs. While she heard Erik gathering the supplies, she knocked on the bedroom door.

Antoinette answered it, "Maierline? What is it?"

"How is Poppy?"

Antoinette glanced behind her, and then back at Maierline, "She's very big and uncomfortable."

"I figured as much. May I?"

Antoinette opened the door wider. Maierline walked into the room. Poppy was propped up in the bed. She looked tired and uncomfortable. She was fiddling with an embroidery set half heartedly. She looked up at the sound of Maierline.

"Maierline?"

"Yes. How are you today?" Maierline asked as she set down her bag and walked over to her.

"Wishing that the baby was ready."

Maierline laughed, "He's ready, just being stubborn. How would you like to met him today?"

Poppy set up further in bed, "You are going to induce the labor?"

"Yes. As soon as Monsieur Leroux brings the hot water I asked for, we'll get started."

She spoke too soon for there was a knock and the door opened. Erik walked in caring a hot kettle.

"Good. Monsieur Leroux, can you place it over on the end table?"

Erik did so and watched intently as Maierline took some brown paper pouches out of the bag. She poured the water in a mug. As she did, Erik took the paper pouches and opened them. Instantly he recognized the herbs.

"Didn't think that midwives used these." He told her.

"You have used these before?"

"Many times."

"Well, Monsieur Leroux, they are very helpful and are quick to help the mother and soothe the baby. You have used them. Good. Then you know how to crush them. Can you do so?"

Erik nodded and began to crush the leaves into a powder. Then mixing the black power with the other crushed leaves. He mixed the power into the hot water. Maierline took the mug and gave it to Poppy.

Poppy sniffed it and made a face, "What is it?"

"It will help induce the labor. They are herbs that I only use once in awhile. It is Juniper, sage, and black cohosh. Drink it. About three to five hours after you drink it."

Poppy made a face but quickly drank it.

Maierline was right. Five hours after she drank it, she began to have contractions. These were more painful then when she had Amée. Every time a contraction rolled though her she cried out. Finally, she found that if she laid on her right side they didn't hurt as bad. This time Erik absolutely refused to leave the room. He set on the bed rubbing her back, feeling her muscles tighten every time she had the contractions. She leaned back into his rubs, calming down as he hummed. Finally, ten hours later Maierline had Poppy to turn back over. Erik was setting behind her, her back against his chest. He held her tight as Poppy clenched her teeth. Suddenly Maierline yelled at Antoinette.

"Get more towels! She's bleeding too much!" she turned back to Poppy, "Poppy. Stop. Stop pushing. The baby is in trouble, and you are bleeding too much."

Antoinette came back with the towels Maierline padded them around Poppy. After a few minutes, Poppy let out a small whisper.

"Erik. I'm tired."

Before he could say anything, Maierline looked up. "No! Poppy, you stay awake. Erik, keep her awake."

"Poppy, listen to me. Maierline says you have to stay awake. You must stay awake. Think of me, think of Amée, think of our new baby. Bien-aime, you stay awake!"

"But I'm so tired, amoureux," calling him by a name she had never used before, "Let me close my eyes for a minute…."

Maierline looked up, "Erik…. Keep her awake, if she closes her eyes, she may never…"

Erik drew a sharp breath, "Jesus doux, non ma cherie! Stay awake!"

Poppy opened her dead white eyes. She let out a breath and held on.

"Ok! Now, Poppy, push!"

She drew a tired, panting breath, there was a flash of pain, and she let out a small sharp cry.

Erik felt her tense then heard her cry. Then there was another cry. The cry of a newborn. Like Amée's this one was also musical. Maierline took the newborn and cleaned it up. Erik heard a small gasp and a cold chill ran up his spine. When she was done, Maierline brought the baby over to him. "Here, Erik, hold your son while I finish attending to your wife." Placing the baby in his arms went to take care of Poppy. Erik looked down at his son and let out a small breath of relief. There was indeed a mark, but it was only small, a pinkish shot stretched across his nose. Like with Amée the baby stared up into his father's eyes. Where Amée had her mother's past green eyes, his son had his gray gold eyes.

"What does he look like?" Poppy's tried voice sounded up at him.

Erik leaned down so that the baby was level with her. "He has gray gold eyes. Reddish hair, like you, and a small pink birthmark across his nose."

"He? A son?"

"Yes."

"And you say a birthmark? Hmmm…what shape is it?"

Erik looked again at it, "I'll say…. Almost like a…teardrop."

Poppy let out a small laugh, "Like my mother. She had one like that. Only hers were on her left shoulder blade."

"Poppy, Monsieur Leroux. I have something to tell you." Maierline said.

Erik looked up, "Yes?"

"I believe, that where Poppy had a hard time here, I don't doubt she'll never be able to have any more children."

A stunned silence echoed thought the room. Erik looked down at Poppy. Sorrow passed though her, then she nodded, "I understand."

Erik sat down on the bed with Poppy. She leaned back against him and sighed, falling asleep. Erik sat there holding the now sleeping baby.

When Poppy woke back up, Erik was still holding the baby. "Erik?"

Erik had been dozing, holding his sleeping son close, "Yes?"

"What are we—"she didn't finish her sentence for Amée stuck her pretty head in.

"Mama? Daddy? Is my baby sister or brother here yet?"

Poppy let out a small laugh, "Yes. Your baby brother is here. Come see him!"

Amée let out a quite laugh and hurried to her father and mother and now her little brother. She leaned over him a touched the tiny birthmark. "It looks like a fairy kissed him! I want one too!"

Erik and Poppy laughed.

Amée kissed the spot and the baby open his eyes and blinked up at his sister. He waved his tiny fists, and Amée caught one gently, giggling as he took a hold of it a held on. "Baby…. what is your name?"

Without missing a beat, Erik told her. "Gaston."

"Baby Gaston," Amée said trying out the name. "I like it!" She hugged her mother and father. "We are a happy family."

Erik kissed his daughter, son, and wife, "So we are."

**(Sob) that was so, so, so, beautiful! I surprise myself! That is still only part of the surprise! The true surprise will be out on Monday! So that was the end to this story…….or……is…..it?**

**I would like to thank all of you for the great reviews, and for staying with the story after it had been erased. I know I have said this before, but I'll say it again, I had not indeed this story to be this long. I didn't even think that it would catch the attention of so many great and loyal reviewers! And as many mistakes there was, no flames. I don't mind them. Everyone has a right to an option. The ones that I hate are the ones that berate your love for the story. And I don't mind someone pointing out grammar mistakes. I always go back and fix them.**

**I hope that the other stories that I put out in the very near future, you all will give them a try. **

**Bien-aime---beloved **

**Amoureux --sweetheart **

**Jesus doux, non ma cherie –Sweet Jesus, no my darling! **

**And a hint as to what the surprise is—"The fire which seems out often sleeps beneath the cinders." Pierre Comeille **


End file.
